


My Spirit Love (phan)

by MySecretsX



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 47
Words: 68,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29065887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MySecretsX/pseuds/MySecretsX
Summary: COMPLETE***私の精神愛.If you fall in love with a spirit who drains you both away, do you live together for twenty years, or stay alone each day?Phil has lived in his house since he was born, but it was when he turned seven he met Dan for the first time. It's all childish games and the muse of a naïve brain until your fifteen-year-old son claims to have fallen in love with the boy you've never seen.Is anything possible for love?
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 2





	1. 開始

Stare at the stars with me, we can sleep this night away. We'll rest in their spotlights, me and you, as they watch us; they'll see us through to the end.

~~~

_Please read with caution, this story will contain mentions of suicide._

_This is written with the knowledge that Daniel Howell and Philip Lester both support fanfiction. It is in no way suggesting anything about their real lives, it is purely fictional._


	2. 零 - 𝓜𝔂 𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓽 𝓖𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓮

What do you think of when you hear the term "spirit"? What thoughts enter your mind? What feelings? Does the use of the word send fear under the hairs of your arms, or does it sound like a gentle brush of air against your upper lip?

I don't know if you've ever had any experiences with spirits, nor do I know that if you claim you have, you're being truthful. I am unconscious of a universe beyond ours existing in the same timeline as we do, and whether or not they experience spirits in the same way as us. If it happens to be that this guide comes into the hands of a force beyond this world, I would like them to understand it as much as someone down at my local park would. For that reason, I am going to assume you don't know anything.

Science has proven that three percent of our population has the genetic code to sense forces that aren't physically in our presence, but this ability has varying degrees. For some, they'll only experience one encounter, for others it's a daily occurrence. Whether you have these senses or not, I'm glad you're here, because the only way we can understand these incredible forces is to share our experiences and educate each other. The only reason we haven't progressed in our understanding of the supernatural is that it's a taboo subject and even after thousands of years, people still fear it. People feared homosexuality a hundred years ago, but look how far that's come now. It's an ongoing journey, of course, but it proves we can breakthrough.

The use of the label "spirit" differs from "ghost". An actual ghost is a reference to energy from the past replaying in the current time. For example, a child waving in the window. That child might have experienced very positive (or very negative) emotions during that moment, therefore when they waved from the window one-hundred years ago the energy from that moment remained. The child then grew up and lived a long, happy life, passing away at an old age. Sometimes, for reasons currently unknown, that energy will resurface and cause a mirage-like effect in the window. There isn't anyone there. That is a ghost.

A spirit, on the other hand, although also related to extreme scales of emotion, is the remaining connection between a deceased person and their physical presence in the world. This relation between the afterlife and living is often called a person's soul. There are animal spirits, however these are less common due to lesser complex souls and them experiencing fewer extreme emotions.

What classifies as an extreme emotion? In the terms of the supernatural, there are two: joy and distress. Distress could be hearing the news of your child's death, or finding out your country has gone to war. It's very uncommonly depression or anger as these states disconnect you from the physical world. Joy would be the return of parents from a long holiday, in reference to the waving child example I made earlier, or hearing about the birth of a family member. For emotions to be captured on the physical plane, they have to be complicated and intense enough for energy surrounding the moment to last. It's a very individual experience, as well. If a spirit is going to remain on the physical plane after a person has died, the deceased must have passed within half an hour of the emotion lasting, according to other references.

So, you now understand the difference between a ghost and a spirit. You also have learnt about the soul and the emotional connection one has to the physical plane. You might be wondering what happens to spirits who don't remain in physical existence, however there isn't a precise answer to this. Some speculate that their energies disperse into nothingness, and with that their conscience and their ability to grow. Others, especially those who are religious, believe they pass to another plane to live eternally as a spirit, while others believe their energies are passed into new, local life.

Well, what do I believe? Personally, I'm not quite sure, however I think I lean towards the belief that spiritual energy, or souls, disperse entirely. This can be a complicated belief with many people struggling to comprehend it and finding it upsetting, however I believe Western society needs to learn that the cease of life and its energy doesn't need to be distressing and instead it should be a peaceful understanding that someone has passed on. They would no longer be conscious. They wouldn't be aware that they don't exist anymore, so why should people who are alive have so much concern over this moment? We should be thankful for the life they experienced rather than the life that they won't.

Spirits fade away after a while. It's currently officially unknown how long this takes, nor if they can take extents to continue their connection to the physical plane. I do know, however, that they are as real as a living human in as far as that their conscience lasts, and if they desire, they can age. They can be seen as though they are a breathing person, although they appear slightly more transparent and are hazy around their edges. They experience emotion as they would have when they were physically alive, and can learn in every aspect a human with a beating heart would. They are alive in every aspect, apart from their physical body being unreachable to living humans. They also cannot eat, nor do they need to sleep as they don't restore their energy as humans do, although they can replicate sleep if desired. Spirits cannot roam far from their place of death without feeling weak and dissociated, forcing them to unconsciously return to their origin. They often do not have a desire to go beyond where they're supposed to be, however, as where this is allows them to feel relaxed and free. Whether a spirit lasts due to joy or distress, this will not alter how they exist in the afterlife, instead they will exist and learn as though they were continuing from the moment they died.

Now, if I haven't swarmed you with more knowledge than you can absorb, I would like to tell you why I know all of this. It's up to you whether you believe me or not, but as science and evidence behind the supernatural expands, I hope I'm deserving of your trust. I have personally encountered a handful of spirits in my lifetime, most just in passing, however when I was seven I met another boy my age and he continued to age with me through choice.

His name is Daniel Howell, and I've fallen in love with him. He is my spirit love.

~ Philip Lester


	3. 一 - 𝓕𝓾𝔃𝔃𝔂 𝓟𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮

The final trickles of sunlight danced behind the distant trees of the horizon as the young mother smiled at her perfect boy. He was pinching the grass between his fingers as the shadows from the garden wall began to set upon his inquisitive expression, shading his eyes from her view. She knew that he was an incredible, intelligent boy; it was a shame that his classmates didn't follow her understanding.

She had arrived home five minutes ago after dragging her way through a meeting with her special boy's headmaster. He was incompetent at his job; unable to protect a seven-year-old child from his peers due to his unique personality. They discussed how they would move forwards because in recent weeks young Philip had spent more hours in the school day weeping than being educated, so his attendance was futile.

Katherine had considered transferring him to another school, but he'd already moved once this year and it was beginning to become apparent that no matter where her free-spirited son attended, other children wouldn't appreciate his brilliant mind in the same way that she did. His imagination was beyond creative and his demeanour was ignited with joy.

She felt hands fall against her hips as a chin rested into her neck, breathing besides the skin on her cheek. Katherine sighed, keeping her eyes on her child, "I don't know what we're going to do, Nigel. I can't keep sending him to that place, it will destroy him." a trail of water slipped down the side of her eye as her breaths continued in a steady rhythm. Her husband didn't speak, instead he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts and display them to him. She did, after a while, turning to him and falling against his blue eyes, "Should I homeschool him? I know I was against it a few years ago, but in Phil's situation, I don't know what else would work. He's happy here, unlike anywhere else. Hopefully, he can return to school in a few years once this attitude has subsided. Martyn's done so well in the same schools as him. I wish I knew what it was about Phil that made him so different." although a frown was pressed against the corners of her lips as Phil's mother only knew children grew worse as they age.

Katherine noticed that her husband's eyes weren't focused on her own, instead imprinted against their child as he gabbled into thin air. She chuckled slightly, "Who do you think he's talking to?"

Nigel hummed, removing himself from his wife as he put the kettle on, "Probably a Pokémon. He's been watching endless hours of that show recently." he poured the boiled water into two mugs as Katherine opened the door to the back garden.

She called our to her child, "Phil! Do you want to come inside? It's time to get ready for bed, Sweety." Phil's eyes darted excitedly towards her.

He had stayed at home today after encountering two older children from his school the day before, returning home with a dash of bruises against his upper eyes that no teacher could explain. He had no word apart from his own; it was fortunate his mother would always believe him.

Phil ran into the garden after dinner, enjoying the last wisps of sun against his small frame as he absorbed his surroundings, picking up snails and holding them on his hands. He always loved animals, no matter how big nor small, and his young mind hoped to be a vet one day.

"What are you looking at?" a small voice asked from behind with a gleeful tone.

"A snail." Phil truthfully responded, turning on the spot with his feet crossed over each other, hoping to catch a glimpse of this one. The other child was perched against the grass on his knees, his curly brown hair falling matted over his bright eyes as his expression remained fixed on the insect. Phil stared at the boy, watching how his outline flickered and how he could still see the rays of sun from behind him, even though his body stood in front of them. They both smiled, "What's your name?" Phil asked. Sometimes the Fuzzy People would be gone in a moment, other times they would stay around until Phil had to leave himself, never to return to them. All Phil understood is that most children didn't see the Fuzzy People, and those that could would try to hide it. But why, when they're fun to talk to?

"I'm Daniel." the boy responded, "Who are you?"

"Phil." he grinned, pushing his fist under the Fuzzy Person's nose for him to see the small movements of the snail.

"I can't touch them." Daniel sighed sadly, "I've tried."

"I know you can't. I've met people like you before." Phil placed the snail back down, turning towards Daniel with his knees in his lap, patiently looking up at the boy.

"You have?!" he excitedly exclaimed.

"Of course. I see people like you a lot. Others can't, or at least pretend they can't." his lips pouted slightly as his fingertips edged towards the spirit boy, "Why do you think you're fuzzy like this?" Phil asked, knowing that some of them didn't know they were dead.

"I'm dead." the boy happily responded, "I used to live here."

"That's so cool!" Phil laughed. Daniel stood up, turning his head towards the back door.

He looked at the woman patiently standing in the doorway, "Is that your mum?"

"Yes." Phil responded without tearing his eyes away from the other child, "How old are you?"

"Seven." Daniel giggled, "You should probably go back inside, it's getting dark."

"I like it here with you, though." Phil responded, but at that moment Katherine called out for him to get ready for bed, "I've got to go." Phil smiled, "I'll see you around, Daniel."

"Bye Phil." the spirit waved as the child danced back indoors.

Katherine focused her eyes in the distance, trying to fixate on what her son was seeing, yet there was still no hope. She wrapped her arms around Phil when he fell into her, closing the door behind them. She smiled down, "Who was that you were talking to?" she asked, hoping to better understand the imaginative mind of her child.

"Daniel! He's my new friend. I've not seen him before." he grinned.

"That's lovely. Do you want to go up and brush your teeth? I'll be up in a moment to read you a story goodnight." Phil nodded in response, running behind them to leap up the stairs to his room.

"Can I have some water please?" another small voice asked from beside her.

"Of course, Martyn. I'll get you a cup." she reached into the cupboards she stood in front of and passed him down a glass, allowing the twelve-year-old to collect his own drink.

"Why is Phil different?" he asked respectfully, placing his lips against the liquid.

Katherine smiled, shrugging a shoulder, "I wish I knew. We'll work it out one day so that we can help him."

"Would he need to go to the doctor's?"

"I don't think so. Just because his brain works differently to ours, it doesn't mean he needs to be fixed. There isn't anything _to fix_ , he just needs love and care. He shouldn't have to change how he is for the rest of the world to understand him, he just needs to find people who love him for who he is." Martyn placed his now half-emptied cup on the counter, looking inquisitively up at his mum as she spoke, "I should probably go up now, we can watch some TV together once I come back down." the boy nodded, taking his drink to the sofa with him as he crossed his legs on the seat.

Katherine walked up the stairs and opened the door to Phil's room, who was dressed in pyjamas and curled under his bedsheets, looking hopefully up at her. She smiled, taking one of the new books she bought for him off of the bookshelf and sitting down at the foot of his single bed.

She took a breath in, opening the cover and facing the image in her son's direction so his eyes could absorb the illustration as she spoke, "The sun began to hide behind the horizon-"

"What's a horizon?" he piped in.

"It's the farthest line you can see when you look in the distance." she took a moment before continuing, "and the stars began to peer in from behind the clouds in the sky as the young boy walked down the street to the park. He was a courageous child and loved to be out at night, but he knew he was to return home when trouble began to rise. He took a seat on the swing, letting the sounds of the wind whisper against his ears as he peacefully moved back and forth against the ropes, his eyes focusing on a distant figure approaching him, 'who are you?' the boy called out. The figure stood in front of him with her outline slightly hazy and the stars visible through her body-"

"That's what Daniel looks like." Phil smiled, sitting forwards to inspect the image on the page.

"What do you mean, Phil?"

"He's a Fuzzy Person. I can see light through him, like the boy can. There's others like them, too." he grinned, finally feeling understood by someone.

"Philip, these are just stories. Ghosts aren't real."

"They are to me." he hummed, turning to face the window behind him. There was a world out there that Phil understood more than anyone else, and he was already beginning to understand that.

 _"Who are you Daniel?"_ he thought to himself, _"And when can I see you again?"_


	4. 二 - 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓼

Young Phil poked his nose up from under the covers, glancing at the moon smiling back at him as it began to sink behind the distant fields. He pushed his limbs outwards, letting the duvet flow off of his body onto the bed beneath him as he brushed his toes against his bedroom carpet. His eyes caught onto the clock placed against his bedside table, with the bigger hand against the two and the smaller one near the six. He furrowed his eyebrows, pointing his finger at the time's face as he figured out what the clock was telling him.

 _"Ten past six."_ he thought to himself, peering over at his sleeping brother who laid on his side, away from Phil. He looked away, taking himself to the window that would open out into their back garden. The moon's light sunk onto the grass, lighting each strand up with a highlight of blue, falling past the young spirit who laid with his back against the damp lawn, watching the stars begin to fade.

Phil chuckled, tiptoeing away from his shared bedroom and down the old staircase, rushing to shove his feet in his shoes and prance into the open space. He quietly called out into the shrubbery, "Daniel! What are you doing?"

The other boy stirred, sitting upright to face the breathing soul, watching his eyes inquisitively fall onto his restless self, "I was watching the sky." he giggled, pushing himself onto his feet, "Why are you awake?"

"I'm an early bird!" he exclaimed, repeating the words of his mother, "I'm allowed up after six o'clock!" he had rushed to Daniel to face him, their faces less than a meter away from each other, "Why are you up?"

Daniel laughed, taking his eyes away from the other seven-year-old and glancing around, "Dead people don't need sleep, Silly."

"So you just watch the stars? They're not very interesting. They don't do much." Phil pouted, his chin facing the faint clouds above them as his fingers twisted behind his back.

"I think they're very pretty." Daniel admitted. He threw himself back down onto the grass, patting the floor beside him, "Here." he asked, "Join me." Phil thought for a moment before taking a seat next to his new friend, spreading his legs outwards and flopping his back against the dirt. Daniel chuckled, lying back with the other child as he returned to gazing at the night sky. He hummed, "See, they're special. They're like little droplets of rain in darkness."

"They are." Phil agreed, tracing them with his finger pointing upwards.

Katherine stirred in her sleep, turning onto her side to see the early morning time reflect back at her. She sighed, rubbing her eyes as she restlessly sat up. The sounds of her boy echoed into her ears, peeling her body away from the warm sheets to peer into the garden. Once again, her son was talking into the emptiness.

She took her dressing gown that was rested against her dresser and swaddled it over her shoulders, making her way down the stairs with slippers under her feet. She opened the back door, peering into the night-swept scene that Phil was becoming so fond of. She watched her son playfully roll around, gesturing in front of himself in conversation and cackling at jokes he didn't speak. She sighed, _"This isn't normal."_ she thought to herself, _"This isn't right."_

She took another moment before turning away, closing the door behind her and dialling her own mother on the 1990s landline phone. She laughed when her mum picked up, speaking fondly down the line, "In my thirty years of life, you've never woken up after seven. What is it with you and my son waking up so early?"

Her mother reflected the chuckle, her smile audible down the telephone line, "He might grow out of it yet, you don't know."

"I hope so." Katherine admitted.

"What is it, Kath? You never call this early." her mother's tone was riddled with concern.

"Phil's getting worse. I'm watching him now, out in the garden talking aloud to himself. He doesn't attend school anymore, I'm going to have to homeschool him. All it's doing is putting a strain on the rest of us. We're exhausted, Mum. I'm exhausted." her voice was defeated, but she still had hope.

"Have you considered play therapy? My friend's grandson went there for a while because he was struggling with tantrums. It was very effective, they learnt he was autistic and they're able to support him a lot better now."

Katherine was silent for a moment, turning her eyes away from her dancing child as she thought deeply, "You don't think he's autistic, do you?" she wondered.

"Oh!" her mum exclaimed, "I wasn't implying that-"

"I know you weren't." Kath reassured her, "But now I'm...I won't rule it out. You're right, I'll have a look into play therapy. I hadn't thought about it. Would you recommend the one your friend's grandchild went to?" the diminishing sense of hope was being reignited.

"I would, it's not too far from you. Maybe half an hour?"

"That's perfect. If you could email me the details, I'd be so thankful."

"Good luck Kath, I'm sure you'll all be fine." her mother bid her farewell.

"Thank you. Bye, Mum." she placed the telephone back on the side and ran her fingers through her hair as her mind gleefully raced. She looked up, seeing Nigel tread down the last of the steps as he walked towards her in the kitchen.

He smiled, peering at Phil in the garden as he spoke to his wife, "Who was that? You're looking better."

Kath snickered, "Thank you. It was Mum, she's going to send us details for play therapy for Phil."

He nodded, pursing his lips, "That doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"No, it doesn't." she agreed.

That afternoon, they booked Phil in for a session in a week's time, both with a sense of relief beginning to crawl over them. They hadn't exhausted every chance yet, and they wouldn't stop until they did.

Phil glanced at his parents standing in the kitchen, moving his eyes away once they walked into the lounge. He smiled back at Daniel with his legs crossed on the floor, but a part of him wasn't as joyful as he gave off.

Daniel twisted his head, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Phil lied, shaking his head automatically.

"Please tell me." Daniel pouted, his brown curls falling back over his eyes, so he swept them away with his fingertips.

"My parents are worried about me." he admitted guiltily.

"Why?"

"Because I get bullied at school, so I hate it there. But I get bullied no matter where I go. I don't like school." he dragged his hands against the uneven ground.

"I didn't like school either." Daniel confessed, "I got picked on and hit."

"Like me." Phil shrugged.

Daniel nodded, shuffling closer to Phil as he spoke, "Call me Dan." he said.

"Okay, Dan." he chuckled, "I'm Philip, but don't call me that it's too long." they laughed together, the brightness in their eyes returning. Phil showed his friend a ladybird that had flown onto him, before looking curiously at Dan, "Can I touch you?" he asked.

"You can try, but I don't think it will work." Dan admitted, putting his upwards palm out to Phil, who shuffled even closer. He nervously hovered his own hand above the other boy's, letting it sink on top before it continued moving through. They both felt slightly disappointed, but still intrigued.

"What are you?" Phil asked Dan, although not exactly addressing the question towards him.

"Do you believe in souls?" Dan asked.

"What's a soul?"

"Well, my grandma always told me everyone has a soul. It's the special light inside someone that God creates, and when we die it's taken to heaven." he recollected from sixty years ago.

"I don't believe in God." Phil admitted, although his curiosity ever-grew.

"Oh." Dan thought, not encountering this before.

"Why haven't you gone to heaven, then?" Phil asked.

"Maybe I wasn't good enough." Dan sighed, looking away tearfully.

"I think you're wonderful!" Phil beamed, standing on his feet.

Dan joined him, "I think you are, too!"


	5. 三 - 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓹𝔂

Nigel stood in front of his son, zipping his coat up for him despite his protests that he could do it himself. Phil was jittery, filled with both nerves and excitement at the idea of going someplace new. His parents explained to him that he was going to go and talk to someone and play with them, in hopes that they could help him. He was disappointed he had to leave Dan, but he said he'd be back.

Phil was surprised that Dan hadn't left yet, normally the Fuzzy People he would talk to wouldn't appear to him again. He originally thought they weren't able to return, but now that his friend had stuck around, he wondered if the other people just didn't like him, so they didn't come back. It didn't upset him, most of them were adults anyway.

He buckled himself into the backseat as his parents drove him along the streets of his small town, away from the area he was familiar with and beyond his favourite park. He manoeuvred his thumbs between each other, letting them jump and fight in his lap until they pulled onto the path outside a house. He opened the car door, patiently wandering behind his parents as they led him into the building. It didn't seem threatening.

"Welcome!" a lady smiled, looking over a counter that Phil was too short to see over, "Am I right in assuming this is Philip?" she addressed the question to the child himself, receiving a nervous nod in response, "How lovely to meet you. If you'd like to take a seat by the bookcase, Nancy will be here to see you in a moment."

"Do you want to go and sit and read a book, Phil? We'll sit with you in a moment." Nigel asked, ushering him towards the chairs while Katherine began to talk more to the receptionist.

Phil peered at the bookcase, finding much more interest in the marble run that was set out against the wall. He placed one of the small balls into the top, letting it noisily run through the tubing, following its movements with his eyes.

It wasn't long before another lady stood in the doorway with a warm smile against her cheeks, waving to the three of them, "Would you like to come on through?" she asked, leading them around the corner into another room.

Phil and his parents were placed in a small room with sunset-glowing orange walls, three office chairs and toys stacked neatly in every corner. He smiled, taking a seat on his dad's knee as the four of them sat together, while Nancy began to speak, "So, let me introduce myself properly. I'm Nancy and I specialise in art and play therapy for children, and have done for twenty-five years now. I work with children mainly between three and fourteen to help understand how they're feeling and what's going on in their minds. It doesn't matter if you're unaware of any issues, or if you could list them all out now." she took a break to let the Lesters process the information, "I normally recommend six sessions. It truly depends on the child. For my first session with them, I prefer to go in blind, getting to know the child and the way they work. If you don't mind, though, I'll pass you a form for you to fill out while you wait, which I will use for the sessions after. That will give me a bit of background." Phil was barely paying attention, glancing at the lava lamp that was releasing strange shapes.

His parents soon closed the door behind them, leaving Phil and the psychologist alone in the intimidatingly optimistic room. Nancy lowered herself onto the floor, inviting Phil to fall to the same height, "What do you like the look of?" she asked the anxious child as his eyes darted between every corner. He let a single shoulder shrug, but his eyes remained on the lava lamp. She chuckled, "Let me show you this..." she pulled out a ball, flicking it on as lines of electricity shot out, "It's a plasma ball, you can touch it and it changes."

Phil sat with his legs crossed, focusing on the patterns the purple plasma ball was releasing, watching the electricity follow his fingers as he inched them over the plastic surface. Nancy watched him for a moment, soon inviting herself back into his fixated mind, "Can I show you something?" Phil nodded, removing his hands, "No, keep your finger on there. Now...watch as I also touch it." he became mesmerised by how two shots of electricity could be released from the centre.

Nancy shuffled backwards again, deciding to take this moment to talk to Phil, "How are you, Phil?" she asked.

He looked up, tearing his eyes away from the plasma ball for the first time in a while, "I'm fine." he shrugged.

"Yeah? How's school going?"

He thought for a moment, "I get bullied. I don't go school anymore." he knew he should trust her, whether he did or not.

"How does that make you feel?"

"Happy. I don't like it at school. Kids think I'm weird." he admitted truthfully.

"Why do you think that is?" Nancy asked, but she didn't get a response, "Phil? Just so you know, whatever you tell me in this room is safe between us. You don't have to tell anyone, and I don't tell anyone unless it's very, very important to. Okay?" Phil nodded. She took a pile of paper and pens from a drawer, placing it beside the boy, "Do you like drawing?"

"Yeah. I'm not good at it, though."

"You don't need to be. I'm not either, but I like to draw." she shrugged, beginning to draw flowers on a page. Phil turned the plasma ball off, watching the pen release patterns across the white sheet. Phil took his own piece, attempting to copy the pictures Nancy had been drawing for a while, before turning to his own illustrations, flooding the page with different types of snails. They smiled together, "Do you like snails?"

"Yeah!" Phil beamed, "We have so many in the garden. I like to show them to people. My dad doesn't like them."

Nancy nodded, feeling a way into the young boy's brain, "Were there any this morning? Did you show them to anyone?"

"Yeah! There were six in Mum's flowers. I let Dan have a look at them on my hands."

"Oh right, who's Dan?"

Phil froze, placing the pen down beside him and shuffling backwards slightly, hoping to find another activity to partake in, "A friend." he dismissed.

Nancy noticed this diversion, of course. She wasn't going to press. Instead, she smiled, letting Philip find his own interests within the room. He eventually settled on Lego bricks, piling them together into a very disorganised building.

She spoke up, "Does your house have a kitchen?"

Phil beamed, "Yeah. It's by the garden. I haven't made the garden though, that's the rest of this room."

"That's a gigantic garden!" Nancy exclaimed, causing Phil to giggle.

He was quiet for a while, his own brain filling with questions he hadn't heard before. Maybe he was different, too different. Maybe he needed to be fixed. He looked up into the psychologist's brown eyes, beginning to question her presence, "Why do you think everyone sees me as different?" he asked quietly.

She took a breath in, "Everyone is different, Phil. Our minds work differently to each other's. Some people like blue, others like red. Some people love pasta, others hate it. It's these differences that make us who we are. Some people like going to parties, other people prefer staying at home reading books. Do you like going to parties?" Phil shook his head, letting an amused breath escape his nose, "Neither do I." Nancy admitted, "But, people get a bit scared when someone doesn't fit what they think is normal. They don't like different. If everyone in the world's favourite colour was red, don't you think people would find it a bit strange if someone preferred blue?"

"Mm." Phil agreed, holding the Lego figure that resembled his new friend from home.

"But, it's not a bad thing that they like blue. Well, I don't think so, do you?"

"No. It's just a colour." Phil spoke. Nancy smiled, nodding gently towards the fragile soul.

"Minds are a bit more complicated than just liking red or blue, though. People have different personalities, or they think differently. For some people, it's more different to what is expected to be 'normal' than for others. For you, Phil, most children don't mind going to school. They might complain, but they still go and they have fun while they're there. That's not like that for you, though, is it?" Phil shook his head, "Now most of these differences don't matter. But, how does not going to school make you feel?"

"Sad." Phil shrugged, admitting to the truth.

"Exactly. It's when these differences that people have are making them sad, we decide we should try and help them."

Phil smiled at Nancy, feeling as though he was getting some answers to questions he couldn't word. He thought for a moment, "Why aren't we all so different that nobody seems weird at all?"

"Because humans are pack animals. A bit like wolves. Our brains work similarly to each other's so that we can belong in groups and feel safe. Unfortunately, for some people, they don't need as clear groups as others do, or maybe they need smaller ones, or much bigger ones. We're complicated animals, really. It's within these packs that people behave similarly; that's what we call 'normal'."

Phil placed the Lego figure beside his complete house, crossing his arms and looking up, "I still think we could all be different because then everyone would be happy. Normalness leads to sadness."

Nancy chuckled, passing Phil a cup with pegs inside, "Who would you have in your wolf-pack, Phil?" she asked as Phil attached a clip onto the end of his forefinger. She watched him think for a moment, before she passed him a pen, "How about you write their names on the pegs and put the pegs in the cup?"

Phil nodded, speaking aloud as he wrote, "Mummy, Daddy, Me...my brother, Martyn, and all the Fuzzy People."

"Who are they?"

"The people not everyone can see. Those who do pretend not to. It makes the Fuzzy People lonely, so if they're in my pack, they'll never be lonely again."


	6. 四 - 𝓛𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓑𝓸𝔂

"You think they're trying to stop you from seeing me?" Dan asked solemnly, turning his face towards the dirt beneath them. Phil's parents had been taking him to see Nancy for many weeks now, and although he was fond of her and felt surprisingly safe in her room, he caught onto words he wasn't sure he was supposed to understand.

Phil held an umbrella above his head with a scarf wrapped around his neck and a coat over his arms. He could hear the rain against the fabric above him, dripping down the edges and onto the frosted grass around him. Katherine didn't like him being out in the rain, but between his protests and promises to bundle up in warm clothes, she saw no reason to argue.

"I know they are. They think if I take the medicine I won't see Fuzzy People anymore, so I won't be different. Then I'd enjoy school." he didn't seem so convinced, either. The two young boys sat with their legs out in front of each other as their feet brushed in and out, their eyes following Dan's socked toes as they vanished and returned time and time again.

"I don't think it'll work." Daniel shrugged, chuckling slightly.

"Neither do I. It was supposed to be working by now-"

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Dan squealed frustratedly, crossing his arms and leaning forwards.

Phil shrugged, poking his nose closer to his best friend's, "I thought it was all nonsense. I was right, I suppose."

"I suppose you were." Dan agreed. He tilted his head backwards, "I like your boots."

"I like your socks." Phil laughed, "They have animals on." Dan nodded, crossing his legs over to further inspect his clothing. Phil furrowed his eyebrows, leaning in as well, "Can you take them off?"

"What?" the other child laughed, "Why?"

"No! I mean, is it possible?" Phil's curious mind ever-grew and his parents found it admirable.

"I haven't tried. Where do you think it will go if I do?"

"I'm not sure. Try it!" Phil beamed, watching him as his fingers peeled the cotton away and discarded the sock to the side. The energy dispersed, leaving no trail that it ever existed. Phil pursed his lips, "Oh."

"What?"

"Well, it's disappeared." Phil admitted shamefully.

"What? No, it hasn't. It's here." Dan's hand grabbed aimless light in front of the two of them, placing the item of clothing back onto his foot as Phil curiously analysed it.

"You've got different animals on it now." Phil pointed out.

"Yeah...I forgot what was on there before."

"You can change it? That's so cool!" Phil gasped, his face radiant with intrigue.

"Phil? Come back inside now," his mother called out, "You've been in the rain for long enough."

"Okay." Phil sighed, then turning towards the other boy, "I've got to go."

"I don't want you to." the brown-haired spirit complained, patiently awaiting a solution.

"You can come inside, maybe?"

"Can I?!" Dan beamed.

"Of course you can. Is it possible for you to?" he questioned.

"I'm not sure." he spoke as he stood up, following confidently behind Phil who was shaking off his umbrella. He slipped in behind his friend, standing before the doorway figure he'd never seen up close, admiring her looks and noticing she had the same eyes as her best friend.

"Go and take off your coat and hang it over the radiator in your bedroom. Dinner will be soon." Katherine smiled, holding her hand out for her son's small brolly.

"Thank you." he giggled, aware how Daniel was stood beside him, despite his mother not knowing. The two boys raced up the steps, closing the door behind themselves as Phil threw his wet attire onto the heater.

"This is so cool." Dan looked around with his mouth slightly agape, absorbing the room around him.

"Was this your bedroom?" Phil pried.

"No." Dan responded, "This was my dad's study. I was never allowed in here." he smiled, his eyes catching Phil's eyes against his own, "What games do you have?"

There was a part of Katherine that twisted her lips and made her reconsider the actions they were taking. He had only been on the medication for a week, yet there were no improvements at all. What if he didn't suffer from psychosis and it was all imaginative play? What would that do to her poor boy? She trusted the psychologist and the doctors, though: they'd know better than her even if a small instinct in her soul was telling her this wasn't right. The mother was fearful of peeling apart her young child, picking at the parts society liked and tearing away what was frowned upon. In her eyes, he was perfect, even if he was unusual. He was happy and free, and everything that he should be, even if his imagination play was extended too far for comfort at times.

As the weeks drew on, Phil's appointments with Nancy ended to be replaced by a psychiatrist who would drug the poor boy countless times until they balanced the chemicals in his brain correctly. He would feel low, and nauseous, his eye muscles would turn weak and he'd be in glasses from his eighth birthday. He'd continue to be homeschooled because no matter what the Lester parents did, their son would always refer to Daniel Howell as his best friend. The boy they couldn't see.

There was one afternoon during the summer he'd turned eight, where the sun cowered behind the clouds and the wind growled behind coat hoods. The leaves had begun to crumple off the trees in an early-autumn as the anti-psychotic medication was increased dose after dose.

"He's not psychotic." his mother reassured the doctors time and time again, "Don't you think if he was, the medicine would have sorted this out by now? There's no history of it in our family, all it's doing is making an eight-year-old depressed!" but the diagnosis was carried out until it wore thin. She knew she was right: Phil wasn't mentally ill. Katherine was completely inexperienced in the medical field yet she longed for someone to hear her out and to finally understand her. She shouldn't take him off whatever he was on without supervision because he was legally required to be on it.

But, on that early autumn day with the cold biting at their fingertips as they arrived home from yet another appointment, Kath began to retaliate. Phil walked straight through into the garden, taking a seat on the new bench against the wall, patiently waiting for Dan to join him. It wasn't long before the light shifted beside him and his eyes fell on his curly-haired best friend who was eyeing the other child, cautiously moving his head to catch a glimpse of his foreign expression.

Daniel sat backwards, pulling his knees onto the wood and turning towards Phil, placing his hands above Phil's knee as his eyes continued to patiently gaze at him, "What's wrong?" he questioned.

"Nothing." Phil responded truthfully. He didn't feel upset, nor did he feel at peace. He didn't really feel much at all.

"Talk to me." Dan pushed, "I can make you smile." he poked his nose beneath Phil's face, forcing the boy to look into him.

Phil chuckled, lifting his knees onto the bench to face Daniel, giving into his dreams, "What do you want?"

"Can we go inside? You'll be cold out here." Dan asked. Phil thought for a moment before standing upwards, nodding as he took his friend by the arm. They both knew he couldn't feel him, but their worlds were made of imaginary play; why limit that to games?

Kath watched from the living room as her son entered, carting his arm behind him as though he was pulling someone along. She sighed to herself, noticing Phil's lack of energy or desire to play with the other boy, even though he wasn't really there as far as she could see. There was something about how the medication made him so placid, yet he still persisted this Daniel existed, that sent chills nipping at the hairs along her arms. She reached for her bag, taking out the paper packet of medication prescribed for her son and she stood up, striding towards the kitchen bin and discarding them on top of the old fruit peels. Katherine knew that this was enough. She wanted her son back, whether or not anyone else did.

"What are you doing?" Martyn asked, peering in from the doorway to watch his mother hover over the kitchen bin. She shone him a feeble smile, letting go of the lid and opening her arms out to her other child.

"How come you're back from school so soon?" she questioned, running her fingertips in his hair.

"It's Saturday, Mum." Martyn sighed, turning his cheek against her shoulder as his arms stayed hanging by his sides, "What's going on with Phil, Mum? Why is he still talking to 'Dan'?"

"I'm not sure, Martyn." she truthfully responded, echoing her son's deflated tone, "I wish I knew so I could help him, but nothing's working."

He waited a moment before opening his lips again, "I don't think Phil needs fixing. I think this is just who he is. I like him like this, why can't others?" although the thirteen-year-old knew the answer himself. People just didn't like those they couldn't understand. Those who were special. Martyn stood back, looking upwards at Kath, "How about Phil and I stay at Gran's for a couple of weeks? You can pause Phil's homeschooling and I can still walk to school, it's about the same distance."

Katherine ran her hands against her neck as she looked out into the garden, partially expecting to see her son laying in the grass pointing up at the stars as he so often does. She nodded, "That sounds like a good idea." she admitted, "I'll talk to Dad and see what he says." Martyn showed her a smile, his childish mind still visible in his stare, "Thank you." Katherine sighed, "I'll make it up to you one day."


	7. 五 - 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓶𝓪

Phil was spread out along the bottom of the steps, leaning against his shoes to fumble with his laces, anxiously tying two bows. He stood up, walking into his Grandma's living room and taking a seat beside her. She chuckled, shaking her head at his dressed body, "You're not going anywhere for another hour." she revealed, "I've not been that bad to stay with, have I?!" she amusingly joked.

"No!" Phil squealed, laughter spreading against his cheeks. He began to smile again a week after Katherine discarded his medication, "I'm just excited to see Dan again." he admitted, letting a shrug rise on his right shoulder.

"Dan?" she questioned, "Who's he?"

"My friend." Phil repeated, "He's the one nobody else can see. The one they tried to get rid of."

"Oh," his grandma sighed, although she wasn't ashamed of his mind, "Tell me about him."

Phil's face lit up from every young crease that marked his expression. Nobody ever wanted to hear about Dan, it was always about himself. He took in a large breath in and set his hands against his knees, "He has brown, curly hair and these amazing brown eyes. He's the same age as me as his birthday was last July! I made him a card for his birthday, although he couldn't hold it as he's dead." he chuckled to himself over the fond memory, "He likes the same games as me. I've taught him all about Pokémon and he watches the TV with me. I really like him." he sat back, cautiously watching his grandma's expression, but her intrigue didn't falter into concern.

"I think that's wonderful."

"You do?"

"Of course." she nodded. She waited a moment before taking Phil's hands into her own, cautiously approaching the conversation as she steadied her breathing, "I would like to meet Dan one day." she admitted, smiling at her grandson.

Phil scrunched his nose, shaking his head at her, "No one else can see him. I've tried."

His grandma nodded, flickering her eyes away from him like a flame on a wick, "I can see them, too."

Phil shook his head again, "Not Dan."

"Let me tell you, Phil, but you've got to promise not to tell anyone else. You might get me into trouble." she chuckled. Phil nodded, eagerly awaiting her explanation, "They look different, don't they? Almost like us, but hazy around the edges and you can see light through them-"

"Yeah!" Phil gasped, his jaw open and eyes sinking into her pupils.

"They're called spirits. They're the energy of someone when they die, a bit like souls. It's very special that we can see them, not many people can. It's how we're made. I can't see them often, but you're lucky because you can. Don't try and lose the ability, Phil. You'll learn to love it one day."

Phil sat in complete adoration and shock, slowly nodding his head with words miles away from his lips. When he did speak, the words didn't seem to make sense, "Thank you." he whispered as his grandma let his hands go. He hummed to himself, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I didn't know you could befriend spirits. I've always been alone with my talent, so I was naïve in its ways. You taught me something, Phil, so thank you, too."

Phil did as his grandma asked and spoke to no one of their secret. He wanted to so badly, more than anything else, but he knew he wasn't only protecting Dan and himself, but his grandma, too. Even for someone as wise and respected as her, she still wouldn't be believed. The world didn't want to understand yet.

Phil was giggling as he sat on his bed, Dan opposite him on his brother's side, curiously analysing his friend's expression as the laughter that had faded for so long suddenly returned to life, "What is it?" Dan laughed back.

"Grandma sees Fuzzy People, too. She calls you spirits." Daniel barely heard the words that were spoken as he was far too focused on the way joy lit up Phil's face in a way he'd missed for too long. He was mesmerised by the way his smile fell against the corners of his lips and the blue in his eyes shone through. His lips were moving soon enough, again, "I'm not crazy, Dan. You're not in my head!"

Dan erupted with laughter at this point, holding his palm against his stomach as it vibrated beneath his skin, "Of course I'm not in your head!"

"Well the doctors think so!" he exclaimed.

"That's ridiculous!" the dark-haired boy squealed out.

"I know." the lighter-haired boy replied. Phil set his eyes on Dan, admiring the way he was so delicately sat against the bedsheets. He groaned, crossing his arms and looking away, "I just wish someone would believe me."

"Why? About what?"

"That you exist!" the sun was fading behind the clouds and into the trees in the distance, while the bright glow of the day faded out of the window between them. Phil was dragging his fingertips along his duvet cover as he kicked his feet in front of himself, "I don't want people to think they can get rid of you. Even if they could, why would they want to? I like you. You're my friend. I don't want them to take you away."

Daniel stood up, walking over to his friend's side and placing his arm over his shoulder, "I'm not going anywhere," he admitted, resting his head where his temple should touch Phil's shoulder, "I like you, too. You're my best friend."

They sat together on the mattress, letting time drift past them knowing they had nothing to worry about when they were together. They both dreamt of a world where they could touch so that they could feel the other's hands against their own. They'd be able to play tag that way. Although, they both knew this made them special; they had something that nobody else in the world did, no matter how many seas they crossed. When they were together, they felt both at peace and buzzing with life. This was where they were meant to be.

Nigel sat in the other room, his forehead in his palms as his wife spoke word after word of concern, speaking of one thing and then moving onto the next. She hadn't rested for two years, he wasn't convinced she'd truly slept since then.

He stood up, placing his arms around her back and pulling her against his body as he let his breaths brush past her neck, "Please, rest." he begged, "Everything will sort itself out in the end, Kathy. Believe me, please."

"I would." she sighed, "But what if he can never go back to school? He never develops the skills he needs? I can't swaddle him forever. He needs to grow up but he can't when he's stuck in this fantasy world that nobody can understand! I want my son back-"

"He's here!" Nigel cried out, "Your son is Phil and he's through this wall. No matter how bizarre his thoughts are or who he talks to, your son is through that wall and you've missed a year of his life trying to get him help. He doesn't need it. You've said it yourself. What he needs right now is a functional environment and somewhere safe to grow up-"

"Are you saying we can't offer that?"

"No. I'm saying I don't want him to lose that." Nigel sucked in air through his nose as he took a seat against the double bed again, letting his back fall against the sheets, "I know you're scared. I am too, I really am. But I think the best way to deal with this is by letting him know he's secure. He can talk to us if he needs to. He will turn out just fine."

Katherine nodded, curling onto the bed and resting her head into her husband's neck. They let their chests rise and fall in rhythm until the sun diminished behind the horizon past their garden. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts swarm her mind as they did whenever she got a moment of peace. She listened to the sounds of the rain beginning to gently fall against the windows, wondering if the ghost boy was out there, wondering what her son believed he was.

Martyn sat on the kitchen counter with his hands over his socks, holding his feet as he stared out into the garden through the droplets of rain beginning to fall down the glass. He pinched his lips between his teeth, letting the light from the sun slowly fade away from his body behind the distant, dark clouds.

He felt as though he didn't belong, and wondered if he felt lonelier than Phil. He had friends at school whom he'd never invited around because he couldn't be sure what state his parents would be in or if they'd find his eight-year-old brother dancing in the garden 'on his own'. He wasn't even sure if these friends were true friends; they didn't know he had a brother. Telling them he had a younger sibling in his household would lead to them finding out he was insane, "They'd think I'm crazy, too," he convinced himself. At least Philip had Dan, whether or not he existed beyond his imagination, but Martyn didn't think that mattered.

He chuckled to himself, continuing to stare out into the open green wondering if he'd ever catch a glimpse of his brother's best friend. Although, he was upstairs. Maybe he even hoped he'd find a true friend of his own wandering around out there lost, just like himself.

His grandma listened to him when he stayed there for the two weeks. He wanted to go back, but when he asked to sleep there for a while longer she told him she was falling ill; she didn't want him caring for her. Martyn didn't mind. She wouldn't forget to feed him tea.


	8. 六 - 𝓞𝓶𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓟𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼

The ten-year-old sat with his legs crossed over each other and a blanket draped over his lap. He held another book in his palms: one of three his grandma had lent him. He was always torn between desperation to spend time with his father's mother, and wanting to stay at home with Dan. But, when he did go to her home, they would sit together until the early hours of the next morning indulging themselves in the knowledge they shared.

She would explain her early encounters of her first spirits, the way she lost the ability through repression over the years. They were both thrilled when Phil settled on her sofa once as she told him, _"I saw one again."_

 _"You did?! Who?"_ Phil eagerly questioned, his palms against her arm.

 _"My old neighbour,"_ she had smiled, _"Although he was a difficult chap. It couldn't have been someone a bit more pleasant to talk to, could it?"_ she sarcastically grinned, ruffling her fingertips in her grandson's darkening hair.

Once Phil aged beyond his early childhood years, he learnt that it was easier to hide his friendship with Daniel rather than bother anyone else with his abilities. Nobody would understand him other than his grandma. He felt lucky he at least had one person to tell. He didn't feel as though he was still the 'insane' child he was growing up.

With Phil's depleting discussion of his best friend, his other family members grew to believe he was ageing past his childhood games. It would be something they could laugh about some time in the future, reminiscing on him pointing at stars in the garden as he giggled with the imaginary boy. He would always be a lonely child in the eyes of his parents. He never sought external friendship and he was more than content to spend the hours of the day in his room with no more than the spirit they believed to no longer exist.

It was easier for Phil to hide Dan once his brother moved into his own room last year. They could simply both stay upstairs with the door shut and their words muffled behind the old, thick, brick walls. They never spent a moment apart, when Phil wasn't with his grandmother or being educated. It felt strange to sleep through private nights.

Throughout the years Phil taught Daniel to read, leaving him in their bedroom with an open book. It was through the spirit's desperation to read-on that he learnt he could still disturb the physical world; blowing upwards on the pages to turn over the words. He played with lights left on in the room, temporarily affecting the energy in them to flicker them ever so slightly. He quite liked being dead after all.

So, Phil was sat with his grandma's book in his lap, reading aloud to the inquisitive child who hovered his chin above Phil's shoulder, following along with the words. They learnt the terms used for specific behaviours and elements, being able to call Dan and his actions 'effects on energy', and understand why the curly-haired spirit continued to live at all.

A small wisp of air tickled Phil's neck, causing his head to flick around to see Dan curiously perched behind him. He chuckled, shaking his head. Dan's eyes furrowed, "What?!" he asked defensively.

"I felt you breathing on me, that's all." Phil dismissed. Daniel stepped past his best friend, sitting in front of him with his arms crossed over into his lap. When Phil looked up, he found Dan staring into him, an eyebrow cocked upwards over his maturing face. Phil bookmarked the page they were on and closed the dusty covers, sliding the lumps of paper beneath his bed, "What do you want?" he pushed, "Why don't you want to read?"

"I do!" Dan pushed, "But...I don't know." he admitted, falling backwards onto the floor and staring at the light bulb hanging above his head. His best friend chuckled, joining him by his side as they let their breaths pass out of their nostrils into the air over them. The world felt still. It was as though as the night drew nearer everything began to slow and falter into rest, despite everyone in his household still being awake. Dan turned around to the thinking boy, resting his body on his left elbow as he looked downwards towards the floor, "You know how a spirit only stays if they're very joyful or very distressed at death?"

"Yeah." Phil nodded, copying Dan's movements and perching his body upwards. He waited for the spirit to continue.

"Don't you ever wonder why I'm here?" his fingers traced circles against the carpet.

"Of course I do." Phil confirmed, "But, it's a bit of a strange thing to bring up. I don't want to upset you, either."

"Oh." Dan hummed. He waited a moment before he began, "I was playing in the garden. There was a well in the ground and shrubbery around it. I was curious, searching inside of it and peering over. I was safe. But, my uncle was caring for me as my parents had taken a trip into town. When I was leaning over he pushed me inwards, staring down at the well for me to look up at him with my arm twisted behind my back and it hurt _so much_. Nobody ever checked the well. He threw dirt on top of me until I could barely breathe. Night came around and when the sunlight stopped seeping in from the cobbled edges, I stopped breathing after hours of attempting to claw my way out. I was seven when I died."

Neither boy said a word. They remained facing each other, filled with a content they'd never experienced before.

"What year did you first find me?" Dan questioned, breaking the minutes of silence.

Phil thought for a moment, "It would have been 1989." he responded, searching his friend's brown eyes.

"I didn't grow up for sixty-two years. I died in 1927."

"You're like Peter Pan."

"Yeah!" Dan chuckled, remembering the story he was read a while ago, "I'm a lost boy."

"Not anymore." Phil dismissed, unaware of the meaning of those words the spirit would take to heart. He turned back to Dan, "Why don't you ever change your clothes? You can, so why don't you?"

"I like what I'm wearing." Dan shrugged, "It's the outfit you wore when we first met."

"Is it?!" Phil squealed, the other child nodding in response looking slightly amused by his excitement. Phil watched this playfulness against Dan's cheeks. He liked the way it looked; it suited him.

Philip peeled the book out from underneath his bed again, returning to the page he'd left the torn bookmark in, but once again his friend piped up, "What do you do when you go to your grandma's? You come back with books, but you don't actually say anything."

"Oh," Phil thought, "Well, we talk. You know she sees spirits, too, although not often and they often fade for her. I like being listened to. Of course I have you, but I don't have any adults I can talk to about this. I want tell the world about you, but I can't because I'd seem crazy."

"You _are_ crazy." Dan giggled. Phil pouted, throwing a nearby pencil through the spirit whose mouth widened in playful offence. Dan shuffled forwards, blowing with all his force onto Phil's face.

"I can't feel it!" he teased, laughing aloud. His friend groaned, falling backwards in defeat.

"I get lonely when you're gone." Dan admitted, "I hate it when you spend more than a weekend there."

"I know." Phil sighed, "It's weird sleeping without you in the room." he had two bean bags propped in the corner of his room with a blanket draped over them. Although his friend could easily sleep on the floor without discomfort, he felt as though he deserved more than that. Phil held his hands in his lap, nervously intertwining his fingers as his chest began to beat, "Mum asked me if I want to start school." he spat out, fearful of Dan's reaction.

"She did?" he asked, "What did you say?" Phil couldn't read his tone.

"She didn't want an answer then and there, so I didn't give one. She said if I do go to school, I'll be joining my brother's and he loves it there. It would be a good time to start because I'd be joining secondary school; everyone is moving to a new school. But, if I chose to stay homeschooled, she would stop teaching me and I'd have tutors come in for some subjects, but the rest I would do online."

"Well," Dan waited, "what do you think?"

"I think I want to try it. If I don't like it, I can leave, right? So, it's better to try new things and get it wrong than to not try at all." Dan admired the bravery of his best friend.

But then a thought fell on him, "Will you get new friends?" a sickness began forming in his stomach.

Phil looked at Dan with a smile on his face, "You'll always be my best friend. I don't mind if I make any new ones as well. Dan! They might be able to see you, too!"

Dan giggled, liking the idea of that. _They_ could have new friends. He looked into Phil's eager eyes, "Okay, but, can you promise me something?"

"Sure."

"If they can't see me, you don't bring them home. I'd feel lonely if you were ignoring me for someone else."

Phil thought over the request for a moment, thinking it was slightly odd, but he realised he'd feel the same way if he were the spirit, so, "I promise." he replied.

"You have to tell me all about it when you go. You'll have so many stories to tell." Dan grinned.

"I'll tell you everything, Dan. I promise."


	9. 七 - 𝓐𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓐𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷

Phil's elbow was pressed into the bench in front of him as the teacher scribbled notes on the board at the front of the class. He shuffled his blazer back over his shoulders as the cold classroom stood against his arms. It was certainly much more comfortable to learn at home, although the two months he'd been at school he decided that he actually quite liked it.

On his first day, he was met with the looming front gates of the school and crowds of older children who were years more experienced in wearing uniforms than he was. He was introduced to his classes and lessons, dreading the idea of homework already despite his experience. He chose to sit at the back of most of his lessons, avoiding the sociable people and keeping his head down at break time. He soon realised he wasn't going to be one to make friends here, despite his conversation with Dan. He much preferred to keep to himself, waiting out socialising until he made it back into his and Dan's bedroom.

When the other students emptied out the gates and he was left to walk home, he would take note to distance himself from Martyn. It was hard enough for him having a younger brother join his school, let alone one who could see spirits and spent his classes isolated and daydreaming.

It was on this day Phil sat with his chin buried in his palm as he watched the clicking tock above his teacher, when he was dismissed from class by the deputy head and pulled into his office with Martyn draping behind, ducking away from the glass classroom windows. They sat beside each other, his brother now shuffled close to him as he furrowed his eyebrows as though to ask if Phil knew what was going on, but the younger boy shook his head, biting his lips anxiously.

"Your mum will be in shortly. Until then, don't worry, you're not in trouble. Feel free to do homework or read, I'll be in the reception waiting for her to arrive." the deputy spoke solemnly, although that was his usual tone. The Lester brothers were left with the closing door, turning to each other as they tossed their school bags to the side.

"What's going on?" the sixteen-year-old asked.

"I'm not sure." Phil shrugged.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything?!" the younger boy laughed, "Did you?"

"No!" Martyn defensively spat, although also in a light-hearted manner, "Want to toss a ball?" he asked, pulling a bouncy ball out of his pocket and flinging it over. Phil returned it, the both of them falling into a silent game of catch.

Not before long, the door opened again, Martyn sliding the rubber ball back into his pocket as Katherine took her eldest son's seat, him standing beside Phil on his chair. She sighed, taking a moment to regain her breath before addressing them both, "Grandma's passed away," she whispered.

Phil's eyes fell onto his brother before they sank away, landing on the floor as his head drooped downwards. He wrapped his hands around his elbows, his skin running cold as he realised he just lost his only other friend. His grandma may be lost, but so was the only other person who understood his experiences. The only other human who he could console himself in and feel as though he wasn't hiding something from. There was a part of him that almost didn't believe his mother's words.

He hoped she would still be around.

"How did she die?" the young child asked, keeping his gaze towards the carpet.

"In her sleep. She's been ill for a while now, but when your dad called her during his lunch break as he always does, she didn't respond."

"Can we see her?" Martyn asked.

Katherine carefully nodded, "That's why I'm picking you up now. She's still in her bed at the moment, but once you two have seen her we'll move her to the morgue." a strained smile pressed against her lips as a tear fell down her cheek.

Phil sniffed, quickly realising he was crying himself as his hands brushed away the dampness against the sides of his face. They were selfish tears; ones that begged her to still be alive so that he could continue talking to her and learning more from her. But he knew that she was resting now, whether as a spirit or beyond. He should be feeling grateful for the years he spent with her rather than the years he will lose.

When they entered her home it felt quiet, Phil's hairs sensitive to the cloth of his school shirt as they trod through the empty hallways. He wasn't sure what to expect if she appeared as a spirit, nor how his grandma would react seeing her grandson mourn for her. Although Philip knew he wouldn't encounter these emotions as before he even searched, he was sure she had moved on beyond the physical world.

He wanted his friend back and it was as though he was seven all over again, because he was alone.

"Are you alright, Phil?" his mother asked. He nodded, taking the tissue she was holding out towards him. The spiritless body was curled against the sheets, dressed in her nightclothes with her pale skin and still chest. His eyes fell onto the corners of the room, moving around as the kindle of hope slowly diminished.

However, he smiled. Meekly and through tears, although he understood the afterlife, and owned a relationship with the beyond that not many could claim to possess. He pushed his fists against his eyes and turned to his brother who was positioned by her side, his fingertips grazing over her cold hands. He wasn't smiling at all.

Nigel remained in the peace of his mother's house as the rest of his family drove home. He would later explain to his boys that he would be clearing her home out over the next week, boxing up her belongings and storing them in the study of their house until they decided what to do with them. The furniture beyond what was moveable or desired would be donated to charity in her name. Her personal items would not be given away without everyone agreeing first. She would be loved until they passed away themselves, living only in the memory of the children of her grandsons, yet to be born. Until then, Phil believed she would be alive until he forgot her, but he wouldn't forget his friend.

The tired boy entered his bedroom, dropping his school bag into the corner of the room and resting his head against his pillow, sensing Dan approach his side and sit at the foot of his bed. Dan's eyes cautiously fell against him, placing his palm on his best friend's back as he waited for him to begin.

"Grandma's died." Phil eventually released, turning around to see Dan still staring over him, "She's gone. I visited her." he answered before Dan questioned if her spirit remained.

Dan stared into the other boy's blue eyes, closing his lips and watching him patiently. Phil sat upwards, pushing his back against the wall as he brought his knees up to his chest, letting the tears continue to slowly roll down. Dan shuffled backwards as well, taking his place next to his human friend and wrapping his arm around his body, relaxing his head against his shoulder. Phil couldn't feel him, but he didn't need to.

The eleven-year-olds held each other as they both mourned. Dan had only seen her a handful of times, but she brought meaning to his life and allowed him to understand his existence more than anyone else possibly could. He had no doubt she knew him, even though she was never able to see him past a faint outline.

"We'll do just fine, you know that, Phil?" Dan sighed, fearful of the world ahead when his best friend was alone again, unable to speak to someone who could be seen.

Phil nodded, running his tongue over his dried lips, taking his shirt fabric to his wet cheeks one last time. He swallowed past his sore throat, "I'm scared." he admitted.

"Me too." Dan breathed. He didn't need air, yet his muscles continued to contract past death.

"What do we do now?" Phil asked, "Where are we supposed to go from here?" he was beginning to see what life would be beyond the present moment. He was beginning to think of the future and the more his mind wandered, the more complicated it became. But, Dan wasn't far off, already fearing the day Phil moved out or brought home a girlfriend. He couldn't be Phil's priority forever. He was terrified of dispersing altogether, his energy fading out into his surroundings as he loses his consciousness.

"We don't need to think about that yet." Dan whimpered, pulling himself closer into Phil as he tried to shut his thoughts away.

They were two children facing a universe of questions that no adult even had the answer to, and they were beginning to realise this. Dan and Phil were truly alone.

"Just me and you, huh?" Phil chuckled.

"Kind of scary."

"I think we'll do just fine."


	10. 八 - 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

The Lesters left Nigel's mother's belongings in boxes for another year, letting the dust settle against their tops as the family slowly processed her demise. They took comfort in the fact that it was peaceful, with her body giving way during her sleep, but it didn't stop the sensation of loss flooding over them each day.

Phil Lester was twelve when they were sat in the living room, unboxing the belongings from their cardboard homes as they sought out what to do with them. Daniel sat beside him on the arm of the chair, contently looking over the family he'd invited himself to be a part of.

They were quiet at the start, picking out items and considering whether to charity them, display them, or keep them boxed as memories. But, as time slowly passed they began to share stories and memories they had of her. Nigel let tears subtly run down his cheeks, although he was happy.

Phil wanted to speak up and share every weekend he spent with his grandma with his family, but he had to keep his friendship with her under lock and key, hiding away their secrets for his and Dan's safety, as well as the rest of his family as to not raise concern. He could reminisce on her presence in his life with Dan later as they sat together, bundled under blankets before bed.

It was a beautiful evening as encounters were shared until the starlight slipped through the living room to light their fond memories. Nigel wondered what secrets she held from him, but took comfort in the fact that he knew all he ever would about her. This was the end of his mum's story, as far as he believed.

It was when a large wooden box was removed that the family hushed into silence once again. Their eyes furrowed as they were introduced to its damaged edges and polished sides. It wasn't an expensive box, nor was it old, but it was mysterious, holding the same value to them as if it was dug up from the ground. Suspicion rose when their son's name was scribbled in marker across the top: _'_ _For_ _Phil_ '.

Katherine cautiously pursed her lips, guiding the weighted box towards her son, allowing him to warily open the lid, glancing inside as the contents stared back at him. He heard Dan gasp from beside him, eagerly looking over his shoulder at the piles of books and stacks of paper, all to do with their research. The curly-haired boy grinned when he saw his own name against a few of the pages, knowing they truly did discuss him.

"This is incredible." Dan whispered beside his best friend, not expecting an answer in return.

"I know." slipped Phil aloud, hoping his family would think nothing of it.

"What's in the box?" his mother asked, Phil suddenly becoming aware all the attention was drawn against him and his arms prickled against his skin. His grandma knew she was ill, she wouldn't have done this unless she expected him to be in this situation, he hoped.

He bashfully looked up, a small grin against his lips although his shoulders were tightly lifted against his body with anxiety nipping at him, "Research on spirits." he said truthfully.

"Spirits?" his dad questioned. Phil nodded, waiting the silence out. Nigel shuffled closer to the box, peering inside and catching the brief words against the paper piles, "What is all of this?" he seemed curious, with no stress to his voice. Phil would have calmly explained his activities with his grandma, but his mum approached, staring into the box with an expression exclaiming fear at the foreign concepts.

She laughed, but not out of joy. It was the tone one would expect before being mocked in some way, "It has 'Dan' written on it," she pointed out, "Phil, this is labelled only last year. I thought you were done with this nonsense?" she chuckled again, "What's worse, your _mother_ was supporting Phil's insane imagination?" she directed at her husband.

"Katherine, don't-"

"Fucking hell, Nigel! We thought this was over! We thought Phil had sorted himself out, don't you see what this means?" she cried.

Nigel shook his head, "No. Tell me, Katherine, what does it mean? What does it matter if Phil and Mum have this bizarre concept? It doesn't affect Phil's life like it used to, maybe it's good for him-"

"Good for him?!" she screeched, sitting down on a different sofa and burying her head in her hands. She took in a breath before directing her eyes towards her timid son, "Tell me, Phil, what do you do when you spend all your time in your room? What are you doing when you go into the garden and stare at the stars? What do you mean when you don't need friends at school? Tell us. Tell us, Phil." she was speaking so quickly Phil barely caught onto the words she was stabbing at him.

The twelve-year-old let water slip from his eye and against his nose, dreading the moments to come as he whispered, "I'm spending them with Dan-"

"Dan." his mother sighed, "Dan. Dan, Nigel. Tell me this isn't an issue?"

"No. It's not. Boys, can you go upstairs, please?" their father asked. Phil and Martyn eagerly complied as he ran his fingers over his eyes, reliving the early days of Phil's childhood.

The three children walked up the stairs, Martyn pausing when they reached the floor above, turning to his younger brother, "Who is Dan, Phil?" he asked, "What is he, even?" he wore the same tired expression as his parents.

"He's a spirit."

"Like a ghost?"

Phil knew this wasn't accurate, but nodded anyway. He didn't have the energy to explain the concepts thoroughly.

"Do you believe he's real?" Martyn asked. Once again, Phil nodded at his seventeen-year-old brother. He sighed, nodding, "You're twelve now, Phil-"

"I _know_!" he cried, "I wouldn't be so adamant about him if I didn't actually believe he existed. I might be crazy!" he squealed, "But _I_ don't think I am. Grandma understood me, she saw spirits too, sometimes."

"Phil." his brother breathed, "I'm not calling you childish, or immature, or crazy. If you believe he exists, I do, too. I might not be able to see him, but he means this much to you and he has done for five years. I know what you look like when you're imagining things or lying, and this isn't that. Whether he physically exists or not, I'm not sure, but to you he's real and that enough for me."

Phil wanted to enclose his brother in his arms, although he knew the older boy wouldn't appreciate it. Instead, he wore a wide smile and he quietly replied, "Thank you." his brother nodded in response, turning down the hall into his own room.

The youngest Lester boy opened the door to his bedroom, closing the wood behind him and pressing his back into it, watching Dan step cautiously in front of him. The spirit tilted his head, holding his hands behind his back as he asked, "Are you alright?"

Phil chuckled, nodding his head with his lips subtly turned upwards, "Yeah. I am. Are you?"

"Yeah." Dan confirmed, wearing the same grin against his cheeks.

"Good." Phil nodded, hovering his eyes on Dan's face as he appreciated the way joy looked on him.

"Good." Dan repeated, searching the vast ocean of Phil's eyes, hoping they'd fall back into his.

They waited a moment, a sense of ineptitude rising between them as they awkwardly shuffled under each other's stares. Phil briskly tore his eyes back against Dan's, nervously opening his lips to ask, "Want to continue reading?"

The spirit didn't answer immediately, still finding himself swimming in his best friend's gaze. But he found his sense again, nodding his head, "Sure." he replied, aware of his turn as he made his way onto Phil's bed.

Philip took the pile out from under the wooden frame, lifting the cover with the bookmark tucked between its pages onto his lap, opening it as his eyes followed the ink against its paper. He read out loud as they normally would, taking turns as they flipped the page. They would normally joke around, make random remarks to each other as they goofed about and laughed in the other's presence, however that atmosphere didn't rise as they read with the stars peering at them through the open window. They couldn't place their fingers on how they felt that night.

Phil flicked the page, waiting for Dan's voice to take over the narration as they continued to learn the precise difference between ghost and spirit, although silence rang out into the room around them. He furrowed his eyebrows, turning to the boy beside him to figure out why his voice didn't accompany the page, but his eyes fell against the spirit who was calmly watching him, their eyes catching each other again.

They laughed, shaking their heads as they turned away for a brief moment, soon feeling the pull to return their gaze again. Phil closed the cover of the book, slipping it beneath his bed to return it to its place as he stood up, turning around to Daniel standing less than a meter away from his feet, "Do you want to go into the garden?" he asked. It was a Saturday night, so he didn't need to be in bed until late.

"Won't your parents see you?" Dan asked, shuffling towards the edge of the single bed, but Phil didn't move backwards.

"Probably not." he gave a small shrug. His best friend nodded, standing upright as their faces stood a ruler's length apart. They both let out an amused breath, bashfully turning away from each other as they trod down the stairs and quietly out the back door, stepping into the open grass patch and falling to the floor beside each other, resting on their backs as they so often did.

The garden light soon flicked off, allowing their eyes to adjust to the vastness of the night sky, their pupils filling with stars as they held their gazes surveying above. Daniel knew a part of him didn't want to be staring past the clouds, and Phil thought the same. Yet, they held their fists by their sides as they glared upwards, fixed on the constellations above the two timid boys. But the brightest stars weren't in the sky.


	11. 九 - 𝓓𝓸𝓷'𝓽, 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻

The energy between the two young boys, after the night Phil stood up for Dan's presence, had shifted. They sought less to laugh themselves, more to make the other laugh and for joy to ripple across the other's cheeks. They'd both acknowledged it inside their own minds, both believing they were growing up and were expecting things to change as they matured. Phil noticed he stood considerably taller than Dan now, despite their eyes staying at a similar level before the age of twelve. They'd found desperation to learn about how spirits age and grow, but learnt that as long as Dan had the energy and desire to, he would age as humans would along his best friend's side.

But, Dan didn't want to age if it meant ageing alongside Phil, because he didn't want Phil to grow older. He felt as though he should be counting the years on his fingers for the day Phil brings home a girlfriend, or leaves home for university. What would Daniel do then? He would perch daily on his best friend's bed willing for his return, only ever finding out how much longer it was for his arrival through eavesdropping on Phil's parents.

Phil's eyes fell against his friend, watching his nose twitch upwards and his lips burn together. He'd been doing this quite often, recently. He waved his hand through his best friend, watching Dan's eyes fall into his as he chuckled, shaking his head away. Phil was having none of it. He turned off the television and lifted his feet onto the sofa, turning his body towards Dan, "What is it?" he asked with concern weaved into his tone.

"Nothing." Dan attempted to dismiss, but Phil's eyes wouldn't budge, "Please," he sighed, "It's nothing I want to talk about." they didn't have secrets when they were little; another sign they were growing old and ageing apart. The Lester boy didn't like it.

"Dan?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"I was thinking we write a blog. You know, like the other supernatural ones we've come across on the computer? Only, we wouldn't be sharing our encounters with spirits...well, I wouldn't be. You're a spirit, of course. But, I think we should teach everyone instead. Let them know there's nothing to be afraid of. We'd write it as though we were teaching my parents-" he began to nervously ramble.

"I'd like that." the corner of Dan's lip grinned as his head nodded, "I think it's an amazing idea. Do you know how to?"

"Not really, but we've been learning about making websites in class. I'm sure I could soon." he chuckled under Dan's stare, noticing the way his eyes burnt proudly against his face, lighting his cheeks up in flames, "Stop staring at me like that!"

"Like what?" he spurted out in laughter, turning his darkening cheeks away.

"Like you keep doing! It's weird!" he grinned, intent on getting his best friend to turn back.

"You can't say anything, you do it as well!" Dan squealed.

Phil's lips parted, "No I don't!"

"I'd get a camera and prove it if I wasn't dead." he snorted, crossing his arms and pushing his back further through the couch

Phil furrowed his eyebrows, "You don't think I'd be able to photograph you, do-" he cut his words off when Katherine stepped into the room, glancing towards him with her tiring face and exhaustion pressed into her glare. He saw Dan twist around in response, looking at her as she looked through him towards her son.

"Hey, Mum." Phil pathetically greeted. Like his and Dan's relationship had changed since the night the Lesters went through their grandma's boxes, Phil's had with his mother, albeit striking coldness through the conversation and leaving them with bitter tastes in their mouths as they spoke. They loved each other, of course, but it was full of misunderstandings and fear, both holding more control over the other than they realised, while feeling hopelessly lost.

Katherine nodded, taking a second to respond, "Hey, Phil." her son drummed his hands against his lap as the atmosphere thickened. She gulped, "Dan?"

Phil nodded. His friend turned to him, his eyes searching Phil for answers and signs of comfort, although he received none. Katherine sighed, turning towards the kettle and flicking it on, waiting for the water to come to boil. The boys sat in silence until she left the open room again.

Although they couldn't touch, Dan shuffled closer to Phil, their knees overlapping as the spirit passed through his human friend. They stared at the energy, both smiling with intrigue at how their forms combined. Of course they'd ran through each other and alike before, but this was different. This felt closer.

They moved their pupils upwards again and chuckled between themselves, catching each other in a private moment, despite it involving both of them. Dan breathed inwards, "I think you should try, you know, photographing me. You've got a camera." Phil took a moment to understand his friend had reverted back to the earlier conversation, his words obviously sparking interest in his mind.

"Imagine if it worked, if the photo showed even a small outline. Could that prove it to my parents? What if it gave a clear image? Could I show them what you look like? Could _you_ see what you look like?" Phil was racing ahead of himself, his hands gesturing wildly in front of him, although if it was possible he'd be resting his hands on Daniel.

Dan was desperate to see what he looked like, and Phil knew this. He grinned, "Could we try?"

"Of course! I want you to see how-" Phil paused, unsure what word was suitable for his friend's complexion, _"beautiful?"_ was his instinct, but he didn't deem that suitable for a boy, _"handsome?"_ he laughed to himself. Imagine if he'd called his childhood friend that. Instead, he let the sentence hang in midair like a pending death sentence.

"Phil?" Martyn interrupted, holding his body in the doorframe. The younger brother turned his eyes towards him, feebly smiling to himself. Martyn walked forwards, "Want to go for a walk?" this was an unusual request.

The foreignness of the suggestion aroused suspicion in Phil, but also concern as there'd be a reason he didn't simply sit here and talk with him. The older boy wanted them out of the house.

Phil looked back at Dan, "Is that alright?" he asked, no longer fearing to speak to the spirit in front of his father or Martyn.

His friend nodded, "Can you leave the TV on, though?"

They chuckled, Phil gleefully responding, "Sure." he turned it back on, leaving the remote where he was sat as he stood and walked towards his brother, picking up his coat from the hook as the two of them passed the hallway pegs.

They began in silence, treading down the pavement as they headed towards the park, down a couple of streets. They were walking through the midday sun, therefore the calendar explained they neared February and the coldest months of the year, although they could marginally miss wrapping up in scarves and gloves. The chill nipped on the tips of Phil's ears, though.

Martyn edged towards one of the park benches, placing himself on the wooden beams and letting his shoulders fall forwards, his fingertips fighting his sleeves. His younger brother sat with him, anxiously awaiting an explanation with his cautious eyes gawking upwards. Martyn ran his hand over his lip, turning to look at Phil, "Don't fall in love with him."

Phil coughed, shock contracting his throat and causing him to cough on poorly swallowed spit, "What?" he grinned. The smile slowly sank away as he was swarmed by the seriousness in Martyn's expression, but he searched for any hope of joke, "Martyn, with who?"

" _Dan_." he stressed, "Phil, Mum and Dad might be as naïve as fuck, hoping this is still some phase that will pass, but he's as real to you as I am sitting here."

"You said you believed me!"

"Oh, I believe you that he exists." he sighed, "That's exactly why I'm sitting here. Phil, you cannot fall in love with a ghost."

"He's not a ghost. He's a spirit." Phil corrected, a pout forming on his lips.

Martyn nodded to himself, "Okay. A spirit."

"I'm not in love with him!" Phil laughed.

"I'm not an idiot. You're twelve, thirteen in a few weeks," Martyn noted to himself to remind their parents of that, "You don't look at Dan the way any...most of my friends look at each other. You look at him as though you're afraid of ever losing him, as though you want to spend every waking moment with him, as though you would, I don't know, fall asleep against him or something-"

"But, I would." Phil admitted, unsure what was wrong with his brother's suggestions.

Martyn laughed, breathing upwards into the cold air, "Phil, even if he was your only friend throughout your entire life-"

"Which he has been." Phil pushed.

"Exactly. Even if he was, you wouldn't...I doubt you'd want to be that close with him. Phil, I've seen the way you stare at him and I can't even see where he is! It doesn't take a blind eye to know when you're looking in his direction!"

"Fine." Phil gave in, "Say I did 'fall in love' with a spirit," he mocked, "why shouldn't I?"

"Just don't." his brother warned, "Don't complicate things more than they already are. I really fucking care for you, Phil. I wouldn't say this otherwise, okay?"

"Okay." Phil cautiously nodded, although he wasn't completely sure what he was agreeing to.


	12. 十 - 𝓟𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓻𝓪𝓹𝓱

As the brothers returned home, they fell into absolute silence once again, the only sound surrounding them was the whistle of the wind against the bare trees. Phil couldn't quite place how he felt. He wanted to laugh, mocking his older brother for even suggesting that he'd fall in love with his best friend, let alone a _boy_. But, his fists also burnt by his sides as he held his arms straight downwards, his cheeks puffing out with each breath. Who did Martyn think he was? The younger boy was struck with offence, although he tried to convince himself there was no need to be.

He scurried indoors once they arrived, ushering for Dan to follow him up the stairs into their bedroom, his back falling against the door once they were both inside. Dan furrowed his eyebrows, running his tongue over his lips as he quietly questioned Phil's state. The lighter-haired boy sighed, finally turning his chin upwards to catch the concerned stare of his friend, "What's wrong?" Dan finally asked.

Silence settled between them as Phil fumbled over the answer. He couldn't give a straight-up, honest response, or at least he felt it inappropriate to. Instead, he let a feeble smile peel the corner of his lip upwards as he shrugged, "He was just talking to me about Mum. Don't worry."

Dan knew his best friend better than he knew anything else. He didn't have much to concern himself over, or the ability to discover new interests, and those that he did find were along Phil's side. His entire life had been about Phil and would be for as long as he could foresee, therefore when a lie fell against his best friend's tongue, he could notice it easier than he'd notice the colour of his eyes changing. He stepped towards the boy against the door, intently glaring at him as he wondered how to writhe his way to the truth, "We didn't keep secrets when we were young." he eventually sighed, his eyes sinking to the floor between them.

"Dan!" Phil gasped, "It's not...it's not like that. Please..." but he didn't know what he was asking for.

"What is it like, then?" Dan snapped, "Why do you keep hiding things from me?" the spirit wondered what else could be being hidden, growing ever more fearful of losing his only friend.

"Fine!" Phil gave in, "If you really want to know, my brother thinks I'm falling in love with you." he fell to the carpet below himself, "Happy now? Is that what you wanted-?"

"Why didn't you just tell me that?" Dan questioned, "That's absurd!" his eyes squinted as he shook his head, "Does he know I'm a boy? Boys can't fall in love with each other."

Phil bit his lips between his teeth, stifling an amused giggle. There were other things that had accentuated the fact that Dan grew up in the mid-1900s as they spent their time together over the years, but this was the first that was as wrong as Dan telling Phil the sky was green. A laugh slipped through as he grinned, shaking his head with his arms flung over his knees, "Boys can fall in love."

"Not like a man and woman can." Dan stated. He watched Phil's gentle face remain unchanged as the trickles of doubt began to seep in, "Can't they?"

"Dan." Phil warmly smiled, offering a seat beside him on the floor, "Anyone can love anyone."

"But..." the spirit took the seat, darting his eyes around, "That would make someone a faggot."

Phil nervously glanced away, "Don't use that word. We say gay. It's alright to be gay, people shouldn't mind." Dan smiled to himself, looking at his hands between his lap.

***

The two twelve-year-old boys began their blog the same week, deciding to update every week with new information. It was their own little project, hoping it will help another child feel less lonely in the world. At least Dan and Phil had each other.

Phil fished his camera out from his drawer and positioned Dan in front of the mirror, hoping that the double chance of the camera picking up an outline would reason for success. It was dusk, the light in the room coming from the bulb above them, until the camera flashed against the wall. Phil took another photo without the flash, opening the gallery as he hoped there would be some sign of his friend. They glared at the images, comparing them and engraving the photographs into their mind, but nothing came from them, "We'll try again in the morning." Phil sighed.

Dan nodded, hiding the defeat in his expression by turning away from his friend, looking into the mirror as he desperately hoped to see himself reflected back. Phil sat on the bed, letting his eyes fall onto the back of Dan's head, watching the way his curly hair fell against the sides of his cheeks. He took a breath in, letting it out as he wished his best friend could see what he looked like, his perfect reflection limited by the physical nature mirrors desired.

The younger boy couldn't be seen in the mirror, therefore Phil's reflection was entirely visible from where Dan stood. He continued to stand in his place, smiling towards the boy in the reflection whose lips were turned upwards in awe. He wanted to know what he was looking at, furrowing his eyebrows with envy at whatever stood in his eye-line, flicking his face towards his older friend with his body rigid, "What are you looking at?" he spat before his gaze had the chance to fall onto Phil.

Phil chuckled, "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

"What was it?" Dan questioned again, pinching the arms of his shirt between his fingers.

"Well, you." Phil replied, scrunching his eyebrows.

The dark-haired boy blushed, "Oh."

"Sorry." Phil apologised, but his friend shook his head to dismiss him.

***

Two years later, they were positioned in the same places: Phil seated on his bed and Dan eagerly grinning towards the mirror, his palms wrapped around his elbows with his eyes fixed on his best friend's reflection. They had finally succeeded. On Phil's lap sat a digital camera holding a faint haze that they knew to be Dan. In reality, it was nothing special and could easily be mistaken for an unsteady photographer's hand, but the two teenagers knew the truth.

The photo was taken in the earliest hours of the morning, with the stars against the sky and their light entering through the unclosed blinds, bouncing off of the rain-droplets left from a few hours before. The winter breeze was still, but the temperatures outside their secured bedroom were below freezing, ready to nip against the ears of pedestrians. The reflections off of the windowsill water allowed for the perfect light into the centre of the room, catching Dan proudly standing in front of the unmoved bedroom mirror. They had the perfect shot, and it was simply flung against the bedsheets beside Phil, for he had the live Dan to appreciate, he didn't need a photograph.

Phil smiled towards the back of Dan's head, his straightened hair running just past his jawline as the spirit focused on the music playing from Phil's laptop. They appreciated their similar taste in music. But the boy with the dyed-black hair couldn't see his own reflection from where he was sat on his bed, only able to see his best friend centred in the room with his arms still wrapped around his own body. The spirit couldn't see himself, only the reflection of the boy on the sheets behind him, with the ocean eyes that never seemed to not be fixated against him.

Dan smiled, taking a moment before whispering, "You're staring again."

Phil chuckled, nodding, "I know. So are you."

"How do you know?" Dan laughed, turning around to join Phil against his mattress, "You can't see my reflection.

"I don't need to." he truthfully replied, for the two were surprisingly aware of the other's emotions, "What is it?" Phil asked, noticing the dip in Dan's thoughts, a cloudiness glazing over him as his nose tilted towards his lap.

The spirit chuckled, never ceasing to be caught when his mind wandered, "It's just the future, again. It used to seem so far, but now I'm turning fifteen in a few days, and we'll be eighteen before long." he slowly let the breaths whistle against his upper lip, "Four years and you could be in university, Phil. I'm so scared of being alone." he let his eyelids fall and his head rest against his friend's lap, his legs tucking upwards into his body over the bed.

Phil's eyes danced across Dan's body, his fingers desperately seeking the strands of hair that were against his lap, although they would forever be unable to touch, "I'm not going anywhere, Dan." he relaxed his back against the covers, their two bodies crossed over each other's. Phil could have sworn he sometimes felt the pressure of Dan against him, even though it was supposedly impossible.

"Don't you sometimes wonder still, though? Other people have a lot of answers; we have close to nothing and what we can bank on is from nineteenth-century books. They're older than my skeleton." he rubbed his fists against his eyes, "Don't you have questions which eat on your mind about my existence at all?"

Phil let his head nod. He often lied awake during sleepless nights pondering over questions only science could answer if it tried. Phil stood no chance of grasping onto the responses for his mind. He watched as a moth crept up the outside glass of his window, quickly fluttering away into the dark night, "I often wonder why you didn't age for sixty years, but then you started to grow beside me. We know that you had the ability to do that, but it wasn't something you purposefully began to do like you're aware of when you change your appearance."

Dan's cheeks lifted his lips into a smile, his pupils directed outside the same window as his black-haired boy, "That's simple."

"Is it?" Phil hummed inquisitively.

"Maybe I have something to grow for." the words weren't spoken to suggest it was a question, Dan believed it and so would Phil. He turned his head around on Phil's lap, gazing upwards in hope of catching his eye-line, but when he didn't he simply let his face relax into a smile, watching as the fifteen-year-old fluttered into sleep, "I have someone to grow for."


	13. 十一 - 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓖𝓲𝓯𝓽

"Phil...No! Phil...left. I said LEFT!" Dan watched begrudgingly as his blindfolded friend continued to swerve right off of a mountain in their video game, "You're fucking useless." he sighed playfully, shaking his head as he watched Phil puzzlingly remove the cloth from his face.

"You said left!" he squealed, throwing the fabric to his side along with the remote controller.

"You were turning _right_!" Dan screamed back with a broad smile showing his teeth. He groaned again, shaking his head as he sat backwards on the bed.

Phil took a breath in, turning off the television positioned in their bedroom and putting the controller away. Dan might not have been able to control the game himself, but he found it as equally amusing to scream at his blinded best friend while he flailed hopelessly around. It was through learning they could game like this that they pondered over using their ability to demonstrate Dan's existence to Katherine, but they knew that if she was going to truly accept the spirit, she would have done so already, instead of sending glares to her son whenever he mistakingly talked into the air.

Phil took a moment as his heartbeat slowed again, turning to Dan with his sweaty palms dragging against his pyjama bottoms, "Are you sure this is all you want? It's your birthday, Dan. I want to make it more special than this."

"Go bake yourself a cake and eat it on my behalf or something," he retorted, rolling his eyes when he saw Phil's annoyed expression, "Look, there's not much you _can_ do, or more so that _I_ can do. This is all I want Phil: just you." he grinned, resting his elbows on his lap as he leant forwards.

"Fine," Phil gave in, "But there must be something physical you want, that doesn't need interacting with. A cool light? A new book? You can blow the pages over like you normally do."

Dan sighed, shaking his head albeit in defeat, "There's..." the words left his tongue as a thought stirred in his mind. A smirk swept against his lips before he hastily brushed it away and chuckled to himself.

"What is it?!" Phil pounced on the opportunity to gift his friend.

Dan's eyebrows raised against his forehead as his cheeks began to burn red, "No, it was just a joke-"

"Dan." Phil pushed, "Whatever it is. Whatever. What you say, you will have."

Dan's eyes farther widened, his head shaking, "You might not be saying that if you knew."

Phil groaned, falling onto his back, "I want to get you something! What is it?" he sat up again, crossing his legs and leaning as close to the spirit as he could, "Tell me."

He watched Dan's throat swallow before the smirk returned, the request soon following, "Get a double bed." Phil was forced to take a moment as his brain caught up, a delay between hearing what Dan wanted and the practicalities of it. His mouth shot apart in shock. His eyes turned into Dan's again, searching for any sign of fibage while he was still unsure if he wanted it to be a joke himself, although Dan held a forceful glare with the cocky smile still pressed against his lip.

Phil nodded, coughing as he pulled himself backwards, "Sure." he continued to sway his head, desperately trying to diminish the tension and reclaim the easiness he had only a few seconds ago, "If that's what you want." he shrugged, although his skin was burning up from underneath his hairs.

"I do." Dan was enjoying watching him squirm.

"Okay."

"Okay." Dan repeated, his hands shaking against him.

"I'll ask my dad to take me to the store later so I can by us a double bed." Phil confirmed, not tearing his eyes away from Dan.

"Good."

"Alright."

Dan was the first to break, chuckling as he turned his head away and shuffled farther to the wall. He looked back at Phil, noticing his friend's eyes still rested against him and a bewildered smile still swept his cheeks. The spirit's gaze flickered between the grin and his eyes that absorbed the sky.

Time didn't feel as though it counted for the two boys, it was as though they were in their own bubble and the universe around them aged, as they truly still continued to be the seven-year-olds staring at the stars in the night sky, with their backs against the cold grass and their fingertips inches apart. It was beginning to bite at them that they couldn't touch.

"Do you remember when we were twelve, your brother taking you to the park?" Dan began, his breathing focused as nausea swayed in his stomach.

"And he told me not to fall in love with you?" Phil chuckled, "Yeah, of course I remember." he hadn't had an in-depth conversation with Martyn since. Dan remained silent, slowly nodding his head to himself as his stare sank away from the human boy. Phil took a moment to read his best friend, his faraway expression as mysterious as another planet.

Dan laughed to himself, turning his back up the bed and letting his head fall against Phil's pillow, his feet dragged up to his body as he surveyed the ceiling. His fingertips picked at the fabric on his elbows with his heartbeat in his throat, _"There's nothing worse than swooning over someone you can't have because you're dead."_ he thought to himself as a sigh escaped against his upper lip, _"But there's no point pretending you haven't, either."_ he continued to fixate his eyes on the paintwork above him, dreaming of a life where he wasn't a spirit, and he wasn't risking a lifelong friendship for a pathetic teenage fantasy, "I don't think you were the one your bother needed to say that to." he finally groaned, pursing his lips and turning to face the wall.

He sensed Phil's movements as his friend shuffled up the single bed beside him, his back against the headboard as his stare didn't slip away from Dan once. The spirit wanted to turn and face him, but he knew that if he did it would only ache as he couldn't hold him. He began to lose himself in his own mind, his thoughts disconnecting him from his reality until Phil piped up, "I think I was." a pained expression fell against Dan, his lips tightened and his eyes scrunched up.

 _"Anywhere but here."_ he thought to himself, _"Why this house? Why this boy? Why did the stars align to fucking torture us this way?"_ he turned around to see Phil continuously staring at him patiently, waiting for him. He didn't look afraid.

Phil's fingers gently rested above Dan, his hand trailing the arm of the spirit despite his touch falling through him. They both giggled to themselves, both able to softly feel the tingles against their skin as their energies blended between each other. The older boy continued to caress the air Dan possessed, his lips drying as he found his look falling back into the brown swirls of Dan's gaze.

The brown-haired teenager laughed, "You can move closer, you know. You're about to fall off the bed." it was true because although Dan physically didn't take up any space, it was natural for Phil to act as though he did, leaving their bodies to not collide.

"This is why we need a double bed." Phil snickered, shuffling closer against his best friend as Dan turned entirely onto his right side, allowing Phil's fingers to continue dancing against his arm. Their breaths fell into a rhythmic pattern that echoed one another's, Dan's eyes gradually closing as he fell into a restful state.

***

Phil silently slipped away from his best friend later that afternoon, wandering down the steps to his father, asking for him to take him to the furniture store. Nigel happily complied, carrying the box between the two of them back into their house and leaving Phil to assemble the frame, "Are you sure you want me to figure this out alone?" Phil snickered.

"I believe in you!" his father teased, "If you mess it up too badly I'll replace it for you. You should do some of this stuff alone, you know." he chuckled, walking out of his son's bedroom.

Phil turned to see Dan with a warm smile against his lips as his legs hung off the side of the single bed, "Are you going to have fun watching me suffer?"

"Of course." Dan snorted, kneeling over the box as Phil began to follow the assembly instructions over the next hour and a half.

They eventually had a stable bed frame, Phil moving a spare mattress the Lesters had stored away onto the slacks and covering the bed in sheets. He groaned, falling back onto the new duvet they'd replaced in the corner of their room. Dan slid beside him with his limbs spread across the mattress, relishing the knowledge he could abandon sleeping on the beanbags in the corner. Comfort was worthless to the spirit as his weight wouldn't actually fall against objects, instead he would hover with ease against them, disconnected from the physical plane. However, he knew that this was now his place and that was directly beside Phil. He didn't need sleep, but tonight's rest would be the best he'd ever had.

"Dan?" Phil asked, turning onto his left side to face him.

"Mm?" Dan responded, turning on his right in return. Phil didn't follow up his call-out for his best friend, instead a grin naturally fell onto his lips as they drowned in one another's presence. They simultaneously shuffled closer, feebly laughing at themselves for their synchronisation before calmly returning to their peace.

Phil slipped forwards again, the distance between their foreheads diminishing as their noses would've touched. The younger boy didn't need a beating heart, but he felt the race of it against his throat as they laid together under the spotlight of the distant stars.

"Happy birthday." Phil quietly whispered, fearful of brushing this moment away as Dan's ghostly breaths fluttered against his lips. He couldn't feel Dan's lips, but as they closed the space between themselves they both felt the energy rise and burn where they should have touched.

They were terrified, but if they had each other, they believed that would be enough. That was all they wanted, and that was all they needed.


	14. 十二 - 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓽

Phil's attendance at school the next day was futile when his mind couldn't spend a moment in absence of thought about Dan, and the way the breeze danced between them as their lips brushed the air the night before. His pencil pressed against the page, although he only wanted to write his spirit's name on the paper in his book countless times, until the lead would wear thin and fade away.

He wondered what his grandma would have said if he told her that he was hopelessly daydreaming about the boy with the once curly, brown hair and the everlasting bronze eyes. The teenage boy believed she might not have been surprised.

The night before, when their lips parted and the space flooded between the two of them again, they remained still. They were only inches apart, resting their heads against the pillows that were neatly placed on top of their shared bed. Fear grew on them, banning their eyes from meeting, although their stares never tore away from each other's faces. They didn't speak. Reminiscing on the night before, they both might have believed they shared thousands of words, however anything shared was through body language alone. The two boys were silent, but their minds were full of the one staring at them.

Neither of them had shared a kiss with another person on any other occasion, both of their mouths were unfamiliar to the sensation of someone on the same physical plane as them pressing their lips against their own. Phil had thought about it and briefly imagined sharing the night before with Dan if he was alive, although it was a passing thought because last night's kiss was worth more than anything else it could have been priced against. He only grew desperate for a way to hold Dan's hand, allowing their fingertips to dance between each other and remain clasped as they drifted into sleep. The spirit cursed his death for the same desire.

As Phil sat in the library over his lunch break, claiming to the teachers on duty that he was revising for his upcoming end of year examinations, he scanned his and Dan's shared blog, rereading the pages they'd uploaded as he checked the grammar on them and restructured the format to present more appealingly. They'd often discussed wishing they knew how many visitors they were receiving, causing Phil to decide he should add a subscription button where it would be displayed the number of people joining them, and would deliver friendly updates over email when they'd added to their feed. As the days passed by, their followers count would steadily increase, slowly opening up possibilities for them to persue, but for the moment it sat as a meaningless box against a screen.

As Phil trekked along the pavement back towards his home, he remembered the days he'd walked with his older brother a couple of minutes ahead, wanting to keep his distance as to not disturb the older teenager's reputation by being associated with the lonely kid. Those isolated walks home were empty of meaning now as his brother studied miles away from their hometown in a university, studying management. It sounded boring to the fifteen-year-old, although he never had the chance to express his opinion to Martyn himself.

Phil clicked his key into the lock as he kicked his shoes off to the side, taking himself up the stairs and throwing himself in his bedroom to see Dan resting with his shoulders against the window sill. He quietened his movements, hoping he'd not alerted the spirit of his presence as he inched across the room, resting his palms beside Dan on either side, standing behind him as he joined him watching their back garden.

Dan leant his head backwards, his fuzzy outline brushing against Phil's collar to acknowledge that he stood behind him, holding his thin frame between his arms as the air between them filled with the sound of their soft breaths. A part of Dan remained still, restricting himself from turning to glance at his best friend, because that meant confronting his feelings about him all over again. Although, that's what he'd been doing from sunrise to sunset anyway. It felt more real when Phil was there.

Eventually, Phil unclasped his hands from the wood and stepped backwards, leaning against the wall to Dan's right with his palms in front of him, "I thought I'd see you spread out across the bed." he laughed, although it wasn't entirely true.

Dan's chuckle met his, finally turning around for his eyes to relax into Phil's, "Dressed or naked?" he teased. Phil coughed, shaking his head at the perverted comment. The teenager with brown hair perched himself against the window, his back mimicking pressing against the glass separating them from the spring colours outside, "Do you want to lie in the grass?" he asked.

Phil pursed his lips, shaking his head side to side, "Not really."

"Oh?" Dan sighed amusedly, "Why not?" it was unusual for such an offer to be turned away.

Phil hummed, closing the few inches of space between their faces with his lips against his friend's. They couldn't touch, but they were right, they could feel the energies collide. The kiss was brief, the black-haired boy pulling away with a sly pinch to his cheeks, "Because I can't do that in our garden."

"I don't see why not." Dan admitted, a pout falling where he missed the presence of Phil.

"I'm crazy enough without kissing the air." they weren't sure if it could be classified as a proper kiss, but it didn't matter because it was real to them.

"Mm, not sure. I think it would be the cherry on top for them to know you as well as I do." Dan shrugged, the grin still relaxed against his face.

Phil chuckled, "You actually do know me better than my own parents."

"I know." Dan admitted, "But I like it that way." he walked around to lie on the bed, his chin facing the ceiling as his palms were pinned beneath his skull. Phil sat beside him, hovering over his body with his legs crossed and his mind being in absolute awe.

What does one say to the other when they know they're in love, but they're also afraid to admit it? Maybe it feels too soon, or too risky of jinxing the connection they were only just beginning to relish and believe in. They want the words to utter through their lips, admitting to every emotion ever caused by the other, they want them to know how much they think about them and the impact they should proudly know they cause them. Yet, in speaking upon the subject they're admitting to something not only to themselves but to the other involved, shifting the dynamics of their relationship and risking the bond they'd spent weeks, maybe months, even years piecing together into the wondrous event that develops by the hour into something evermore incredible.

They'd known they'd loved each other for months. It didn't take a kiss to clarify that as it was shared in the way they laid together, spoke together, and laughed. It was in every word whispered and breath passed through their lips. The kiss was one of the last moments to explain to each other, _"I'm staying by your side, even if this kills us."_ although saying, _"I love you"_ still felt as though they were risking every year together since they were seven.

But, mutually through the atmosphere left in the room as the fifteen-year-olds sat beside each other, they understood it was a risk worth taking, "I love you." Phil breathed, the words only audible in the silent room they'd shared for eight years.

Dan laughed, the tone inseparable from nerves, relief and devotion, "I was thinking the exact same thing." he admitted.

"About yourself or me?" Phil instantly joked.

"You, of course. I love you, idiot."

"I think calling me an idiot afterwards double-downs on your statement." he teased, watching Dan sit upwards before their lips were together again before he had a chance to count another second. They didn't dare move when they found the exact position that made the connection on their lips buzz, fearful of losing the shocks against their skin. Kissing a spirit, or kissing a human, was not like kissing two of the same kind. It was even more appealing to the two of them because they were the only ones in history to have felt it, so no one else understood the way it burnt with desire. It was hard to say if that was the interspecies relationship or the energy that belonged to the both of them and them only. Either way, it was perfect, and they both knew so.

"I love you." Dan sighed, falling back again the bed.

"I love you, too." Phil repeated, lying beside him.

The spring sunlight shone through their bedroom window onto the grey carpet as Phil's eyes made of the sky became trapped into Dan's made of Earth. The trees outside the brick house swayed shades of green in the wind, holding themselves tall over the grass that was trickled with water from the noon showers. Dan had stood in that rain as Phil had watched it from his classroom window, both dreaming of the moment they'd return to each other's sides, and now they were here and it was everything they imagined it to be. Every morning and every evening, it was everything they could ever wish for. They still dreamt as often as they did when they were seven, although they now dreamt of so much more.


	15. 十三 - 𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼

It was Boxing Day 2005, the early Autumn was bringing humidity in the air and looming dark, grey clouds that were dragged over Britain. The rainfall had not yet started, but laid out above everyone's heads as a flood threat in the sky. Dan loved it. He felt invigorated and as though the energy inside him vibrated against the air around his form. He was able to feel Phil's touch stronger and more easily, and Phil could touch Dan as though he were made of cobwebs spun from the finest spiders.

The Lesters didn't do much in the way of Boxing Day, ceasing around the age of when Phil was twelve and the tension around his best friend struck the family apart. Guilt rippled through Dan on their 'family days', seeing a world without his existence where they'd gather around board games and laugh in unison, but Phil would remind him that they could still have had that, it wasn't Dan's fault the Lesters reacted badly, or at least his mother.

So, instead, the two boys laid out in the open space of the garden, their backs pressed against the damp dirt with their legs crossed and bodies touching by their sides. Occasionally, Dan would flop his entire arm into Phil's chest, sending a pulse across the area they collided and cause Phil to shiver briefly before laughter set against their lips. It was a strange action, one normally not of foolish behaviour but one that said, _"I can't get close enough to you, even if I shove my hand through your heart"_. Phil would occasionally do the same.

When small droplets of moisture began to fall from the clouds, they exchanged a look of agreement to head back inside to their bedroom to protect Phil from the rain. But they both hesitated, Phil pausing as he rested on his right elbow, leaning over Dan as they lovingly smiled to one another. Phil let a sigh escape his nose before he pressed his lips where Dan's were, the pleasant burn running along his throat before he pulled away.

What was between them remained unspoken. They loved each other more than simply being friends, and they felt a drive pulling them to want to touch at every possible moment. The same pull that brought their lips together on countless occasions throughout each day, even though they could barely feel the other at times. Phil believed it was similar to kissing someone when they were asleep. The other person wouldn't feel it, but just knowing they'd touched their lips against their loved one was enough for the one who was awake. It wasn't quite the same, but it was as close to familiarity as he had.

Despite this force pulling them to one another and the love they shared, they were still best friends. This meant more to them than the kisses they exchanged or the titles that came with that. They'd been best friends since they were seven and always would be, they were undeniably perfect for each other. This is who they were.

Katherine's hand shook against her mug as she placed the full cup against the counter, running her palms into her hair as her breathing became instantly staggered. She felt sick with guilt and frustration, her legs falling weak beneath her. She walked out of the kitchen into the connected lounge, taking a seat but still glancing at the back door, her eyes eventually setting on the rug in front of her that her toes were pressed into. As soon as she heard the door handle click, she gently uttered, "Phil, come here."

He exchanged a glance with Dan, finding it both unusual that she was addressing him, but also the tone in which she spoke. However, he moved forwards, standing opposite her crouched body, watching her as she sat upright again. She sighed, "Is the ghost here?" Phil nodded, "Can you ask him to leave?"

Phil turned behind him, making sure his mother couldn't see his lips at all. He wasn't facing Dan, but he took the hint to step over so he was where Phil was addressing his speech, "Why don't you ask him yourself?" he tested, not tearing his eyes away from his spirit.

"Phil," his mother spoke, "please."

Dan furrowed his eyebrows, but Phil mouthed a silent word, _"Don't,"_ he began, "It's fine, he's leaving."

"Good." Katherine breathed.

 _"Don't leave."_ Phil pushed again.

"Okay." Dan whispered, even though he wouldn't be heard by Kath if he shouted.

Phil turned back to his mother, her hand waving to the sofa asking him to sit, so he did, not wanting to complicate her stressed tone. She looked up, pressing her glare into Phil, "What's going on?" she asked with an unsettling intensity.

"What do you mean?" Phil furrowed his eyebrows, leaning his arm against the sofa.

"I _mean_ I've thought it for a while now. I've caught you interacting with your imaginary friend plenty of times both still and in the past. Something's changed Phil and I want you to tell me what." she still persisted on not believing Dan truly existed, and it always sent pains across their chests.

"There's nothing to say." Phil lied.

"Fucking hell, Phil." she cursed, "I've seen it. I've seen how you interact and anyone a mile away could notice you're not simply friends with this ghost." she paused, "I wasn't going to say anything until I was sure. I think I was still hopeful some part of this was a faze, but I saw that kiss in the garden, Phil. You looked fucking insane."

The two boys stilled in horror. Phil wanted to glance behind himself to see Dan's expression, and Dan wanted to walk around to stand behind Katherine so he could comfort his best friend, although he thought that could risk Katherine finding out he was still present. Phil sucked in a breath, "What do you want me to say?" he sounded calm although the nerves inside him chewed away at each other as he felt like cowering away.

"How long has that been going on?! What are you to each other?!" she sounded pained.

"I don't know!" he squealed, "Dan's birthday, I guess. We don't know what we are, we don't care!" he knew he was treading on knives.

"Dan's birthday?" she laughed, mocking him, "When's that?"

Martyn and Nigel knew. But, Phil sighed, "June eleventh."

"What's that, then?" she calculated, "Six months. How does that even work, Phil? You can't touch him, so you've said. So, you kiss the air? You hold the air's hand? Fuck the air? How does dating a fucking ghost work?"

"Spirit, Mum. He's a spirit." he'd had enough, "And I don't know but if you've managed to see that I love him on my face then that already proves it works better than what you have with Dad-"

" _Philip._ " his mother warned. The teenager sat back with his arms crossed in his lap. Katherine sighed, her eyes feeling heavy, "What do I do?" she asked, "I'm lost, Phil. Be me for a second. Your son, diagnosed with childhood psychosis, has a 'spirit' boyfriend. What's this? Some lengthy way to accept you're gay?"

Phil pursed his lips, remembering the endless doctors' appointments and the strain it enforced on the family, "You didn't believe them." he reminded them, "You said the medication didn't work and all it was doing was making me depressed. I bloody felt it as well." a ball began to form in his throat.

"Maybe I was wrong." she admitted, "This is going too far, Phil. This is a warning. Stop fooling around, you're getting too old."

Phil shook his head and stood up, walking away from his mother and up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting the door behind them and he lied on their bed with his palms on his face. Dan's head pounded and his arms ached. He was angry, although it seemed to be served evenly between his frustration at Katherine and himself. A part of him was beginning to believe Phil's world would be a better place if he just disappeared.

When Phil opened his eyes again he saw the lost and pained expression against his best friend, a knot tying in his heart as he forcefully uttered, "Don't. I need you, Dan."

The spirit laughed, shaking his head, "It's a curse that you know me so well."

"God I just want to hold you." Phil admitted, sinking into the mattress.

"I do, too." Dan admitted, taking a seat next to Phil and wrapping his arms around the human boy, although neither of them felt the touch.

"What if I find a way to be a spirit? You can't be human, but-"

"What the fuck?" Dan asked, tearing himself away from Phil and furrowing his eyes, "Phil, do you know what you just said?!" he burnt with fear.

"Of course I do." Phil sighed, "We could find a way. I'd find a way to experience extreme joy or distress and then-"

"Phil! Stop!" Dan begged, "No! Even if this was an option you know suicide rarely creates a spirit."

"But it would be different for us because it's not about me ending my life it's about me being with you."

"Phil." Dan warned, "Stop. You're not doing that. It won't work." Phil wanted to argue back but he knew better. Within a second, tears were falling down his cheeks and his muscles were slowly relaxing. He felt entirely hopeless, scared, and frustrated. They were lost. He didn't know how to accept that, either. The two boys closed their eyes, laying beside each other as their world began to fall apart.

"It worked for eight years." Phil sighed defeatedly.

"It will work for another eighty." Dan stated, although as he spoke he felt as though he was telling a lie, "It'll work." he tried again, but he couldn't even reassure himself.


	16. 十四 - 𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓓𝓲𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴?

A week had passed with little mention of Dan and Phil's relationship. Barely a word had been exchanged between Katherine and her son, and he heard his parents late at night in heated discussions about what to do with him. Although Phil spent most of his time at school daydreaming about his return to Dan instead of actually focusing, this week during the Christmas holidays, he wished he could have that escape.

Even with their backs against the wall, and their feet on their bed as they watched hours of YouTube or adding pages to their blog, they didn't dare move more than a foot apart. They felt safe with each other, no matter what was being discussed under the same roof.

Phil had this growing desire to prove Dan existed beyond his mind. He sat with Dan, a paused video in front of them when he suddenly spoke up, "How do you think we can prove you exist?"

His best friend turned to him, furrowing his eyebrows, "Are you sure?"

"Are you not?"

"No, I am, it's just..."

"We're desperate. We're running out of time. They're going to throw me on antipsychotics again and I'll be a puddle on the floor-"

"Just don't take them." Dan suggested. Phil thought about this for a moment, realising it would likely work. The brown-haired boy sighed, "Phil, we'll be okay." he just wished he could reassure himself, too.

Phil leant in, his speech dropped to a barely audible volume, "What if we move house?" Dan shuddered, the thought had risen to his conscience countless times, but he could always dismiss it and lie to himself, saying it was never going to happen. But now Phil had the same concern.

"Don't mention that I'm stuck here. If you do go away, pretend as though I'm still around. Lie to them, please." he begged, his eyes shimmering with water. Phil nodded, running his tongue over his cracked lips and leaning away again. Dan turned his body around, facing his only friend as he muttered, "I love you."

Phil smiled, running his hand through Dan's as it rested on his knee, "I love you, too. I'll sort this out."

"We'll sort this out. It's not your fault." Dan reminded him.

At that moment Phil's mobile rang on his bedside table. He picked it up, hesitating to answer the call to his brother on the other end of the line. Dan peered over, "Who is it?" he asked.

"Martyn." Phil responded, a confused pout against his lips. He shrugged, answering the ring and placing his telephone against his ear, "Hey, Martyn?" he asked.

"Hi, Phil." his older brother greeted without much expression to his voice.

"How come you're calling?" the younger brother asked, smiling towards Dan.

"I don't know, really. Thought I'd just catch up if you've got time?"

"Yeah, of course. How's uni going?" his speech was slow and planned.

"It's going really well, actually. What's the situation at home?"

Phil became dubious, "Have Mum or Dad said anything to you?"

"No," Martyn replied honestly, "why, what's going on?"

Phil sighed, looking around the room he was sat in, "It's about Dan again...and Mum..."

"I thought everything had calmed down?"

"It had!" Phil jumped in, he pursed his lips as he gathered the courage to admit it, "I fell in love with him." Dan squirmed cheerfully beside him.

"Fuck." the older Lester cursed. The call fell silent, only the sound of breathing audible for a minute over the line, "Are you alright?"

"Honestly? I could be better."

"I'm not surprised." Martyn sighed. They fell silent again, the birds outside their windows audible to each other, the songs calling out either side. It was a minute before he spoke again, "I've felt guilty for three years. I never should have told you to stay away from Dan."

"You were right-"

"I was fucking wrong." Martyn admitted, "I've been alive for twenty years, yet never have I seen someone have the expression you do when you look at Daniel. For Christ's sake, I can't even see the spirit! I don't know what it is about you two, but you have something that you only ever see in movies because it just can't be real. How you've ever managed to get that, I'm not sure, but I was wrong to try and diminish it at the start. I don't know how your dynamics work, but I pray that it does. I'm here for you, both of you. If you're not still together in fifty years, I'll come for you both, alright? You're my little brother, Phil, you always have been and you always will be."

***

The two fifteen-year-olds lied with their backs in the damp grass, staring at the darkening sky above them with their hands through each other's on the ground. Their shoulders were less than an inch apart, and smiles pulled against their cheeks as they rested in their beloved garden. It wasn't anything special in regards to the plants it inhabited, but it was where they first met and grew up. It was the snails that journeyed along the pavement a few meters away that sparked their first conversation. This would always be their place.

"Do you ever wish I was human?" Dan asked, dancing his fingers up and down through Phil. His friend turned to him, a confused expression against his face and eyes full of longing.

Phil sighed out a hum, chewing the insides of his cheeks as he thought, "I wish I could touch you. I wish I didn't have to worry about losing you in the way that I could. But would I change you? No. I think you're perfect the way you are, it just makes things more complicated if we're not the same..." he wasn't sure what their difference would be classified as.

"Species?" Dan suggested.

Phil shrugged, "I suppose." they fell into silence again, until the black-haired boy spoke up, "How do you think our lives will plan out?" he twiddled his thumbs above his nose.

Dan sat up, looking over Phil into his eyes, with a smile against his cheeks, "I think we'll work this out. You'll grow up and take over this house, and I'll be here. I'll always be your best friend, Phil."

Phil silently chuckled, his gaze falling onto Dan's lips, and Dan's onto his, "What about us? What will we be?" he pushed.

Dan tore his eyes away and let them fill with water, looking off into the trees positioned by the back brick wall of the garden. Phil bit his lips, sighing as he felt as though the words to come weren't what either of them truly wanted. Dan took a breath, "Well, I'll be here. Not many people can see spirits, so you'll have to be with someone who understands you. But, I assume at some point you'll have a wife, but I'll always be your best friend, Phil." his chest hurt and he couldn't describe why.

The older boy grimaced, sitting up and running his wrists against his eyes, "What the fuck?" he asked, his own chest mimicking the pain Dan felt, who was now wearing furrowed eyebrows displayed over pained pupils, "Dan? Don't you get it? Don't you understand? Doesn't what we have mean to you what it does to me?" his voice was rising, but Daniel still wasn't understanding, so he continued, "Dan, I'm gay." but his best friend still didn't seem to be receiving the message, "I like boys." he kept pushing, "I'm gay, homosexual, a faggot? What the fuck don't you get about this? I don't want a wife! If I was going to get married I'd want a husband but fuck that because I want to be with _you_. Dan, I love you. Right?"

He couldn't respond because the words weren't there to say. The sun had folded behind the horizon and the only light was from the kitchen, beaming through the garden window. The stars were hidden behind dark clouds, contemplating a downpour. Dan was sat with his arms hugging his knees as the ache in his heart flooded through his eyes, with water slowly falling down his cheeks.

Phil shuffled closer to him, holding an arm behind the spirit who rested his head against the human's shoulder, "I love you." Phil said.

"I love you, too." Dan sniffled, causing them both to chuckle, "I'm sorry, I just...I-"

"It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I got annoyed, but I suddenly felt like this entire year went to waste. Dan, when I say I don't want to lose you, I mean our whole relationship. I want what we have, forever." Phil smiled, but the guilt in Dan grew stronger as he continued to hide the reality from his best friend.

He diverted his thoughts, instead speaking up to say, "I forgot boys could be together."

"What the hell have we been doing for a year, then?"

"Well, you told me boys could love each other. I didn't know anything was allowed to come from that."

Phil couldn't help but giggle at Dan's naïvety, the spirit's arm soon lashing through Phil in an attempt to punch him. He laughed again, "Dan?"

"Yeah?" he sniffled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he began to chirp up.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

The question caught the younger boy by surprise, his eyes wide against his best friend as his grin stretched from ear to ear, "Yeah." he nodded, still caught off guard. Phil leant in to brush his lips against Dan, the spirit hastily glancing at the kitchen window.

"I don't care, let them see us." Phil hummed, so Dan nodded, passing the air between their lips.


	17. 十五 - 𝓒𝓪𝓶𝓫𝓻𝓲𝓭𝓰𝓮

Phil opened the door to his older brother standing in their front garden with his arms extended, a suitcase positioned beside him. It was early afternoon, so the sun was shining brightly above the three of them, Dan standing just behind Phil in the hallway, even though Martyn didn't know that yet, "Hey Phil!" he laughed, embracing his younger brother.

"You alright?" Phil asked, "Good journey?"

"Yeah, of course." Martyn nodded. He'd spent the last two hours travelling back from university after graduating a few weeks before, although he wasn't staying long as he was moving into a shared house with some of his university friends. Phil was going to make the most out of the weekend. Martyn let go of him, "How are you?"

Phil pursed his lips and nodded. His relationship with Dan was still tearing the family apart and Katherine grew more concerned by the day, but he was alright himself because he had the brown-haired spirit beside him, "I'm alright."

"Is...Dan here?" Martyn looked behind Phil.

"Yeah, just there." Phil gestured towards a nervously waving Dan, standing with his limbs rigidly held into his body.

"Hey, Dan." Martyn waved towards the air.

"Hi." the spirit replied.

"He said 'hi'." Phil repeated. The eldest boy nodded, picking up his suitcase and following the others into the house.

"Where's Mum and Dad?" Martyn asked.

"Mum should be upstairs and Dad's out at the shops." Phil sighed, shrugging with his hands in his skinny jeans' pockets.

"And how's school going?"

"Good! Just nervously waiting on my GCSE results."

"You'll have done awesomely." Martyn smiled, "Surely you could have taken Dan as well and just had him standing behind you giving you answers?"

Dan and Phil laughed, "Good luck trying to get him to go to school when he doesn't have to." Phil giggled, ignoring the fact it wouldn't have been physically possible, but not even his older brother was going to find that out.

"I don't blame him." Martyn admitted, kicking his shoes off and throwing himself onto the sofa. He held the remote in his hand, but ended up tossing it to the side and sitting up again, "So...how's it going with you and Dan?"

"Bloody hell, Martyn!" Phil cackled.

"What?!" he defensively shouted, "I'm allowed to be intrigued!" he furrowed his eyebrows, "You're...with Dan aren't you? Like, he's your-"

"Boyfriend, yeah." Phil was listening to Dan chuckle beside him, the sound of his laughter spreading a smile against Phil.

"So...are you gay?" Martyn puzzled.

Phil sniffled in amusement, nodding his head, "I think Dan would hope so."

There was silence for a second before Dan asked, "Wait, you are, aren't you?"

Phil turned to Dan, who was sat on the coffee table, "Yes Dan, I'm gay. I'm your fucking _boyfriend_." he shook his head at the spirit as his brother choked up in laughter, "So. Martyn, what about you?"

"Am I gay?"

"I meant 'are you with anyone' but that too, I guess."

"Single and I don't think so." he shrugged, smiling at his younger brother, "How are things with Mum? You've been with Dan for how long, now?"

"Realistically, just over a year. Officially? Christmas. It's a long story." he sighed, "And honestly it's getting worse. She's been getting me to see a therapist regularly, but he doesn't seem fazed by the spirit situation. She wants me back on medication."

"Fuck." Martyn cursed, "Isn't it being proven spirits actually exist, though?" he pointed out, "It's been in the news recently."

"Yeah!" Phil beamed, "She says it's all a theory."

"Gravity is a theory." his older brother shrugged. Dan laughed beside them.

"Dan's laughing." Phil informed his brother.

Martyn took a large breath in, pulling his laptop out of his bag and drumming his fingers against the keys, "Phil?"

"Yeah?" he nervously replied, standing up to sit next to him.

"Is this yours?" he spun the screen towards Phil.

"Yeah..." the black-haired teenager was staring at his shared blog with his boyfriend, staring at the words they'd written over the years, "How'd you find it?"

"Was researching." Martyn shrugged, "It was on the first page of 'spirit encounter blogs'. It looked like your writing style and it was written about 'Dan and Phil'." he was silent for a moment, "Phil, almost a million people are subscribed to it, that's incredible."

He bashfully smiled, "Thank you." he said.

Again, his brother paused, but soon added, "I could start getting you to make money from this, you know. If you want to?"

Dan and Phil chuckled, "I've been emailed about a few offers over time but I was a bit intimidated, so I humbly asked them to come back in a few months. One did the other day, I haven't responded yet."

"Is that a yes?"

"I mean, depends how we're doing it, but yeah!" the three of them smiled between each other, "Dan, that's okay with you-?"

"Yeah!" he agreed.

Phil nodded at Martyn.

"Hello, Martyn!" Katherine spoke from the doorway as she entered, approaching her eldest son to embrace him, "You alright?"

"Yep! I'm good." he closed his laptop screen and placed it back in his bag.

"Oh, what were you looking at?" she grimaced, her hands stroking over her arms.

"I was just showing Phil a blog." he defended.

"About spirits?" she pushed, shaking her head and sighing.

"Yes, in fact." he agreed, "Do you know they're proving the existence of spirits?" She just nodded, turning away to put the kettle on in the kitchen.

"I'm going to go upstairs with Dan, is that okay?" Phil whispered.

Martyn nodded, "We'll talk again later. I'll come to your room." he smiled. Dan and Phil hastily moved out of the room, climbing up the stairs and into their bedroom. Phil threw himself on the bed, peering at the afternoon sunlight through the window.

Dan sat with him, tucking his knees up to his chest and running his palm over Phil's fringe as though he was fixing it, but as the wisps of hair moved at his touch his lips gaped slightly. Phil chuckled, "I can feel that."

"Your hair's moving." Dan confirmed, fixating on his control over the strands. Phil closed his eyes, focusing on Dan's movements, feeling a shiver crawl against his neck. It wasn't often they got moments like this, they'd contemplated whether the days of the month, or the time of the day, or the brightness of the sun, could add to it. But, apart from Dan's presence in the physical world seems to be stronger during the sunset, the other factors had no stable pattern. It was pure luck when they could somewhat experience touch. Or, so they believed.

***

The two sixteen-year-olds sat in their bedroom with their legs crossed on their bed, facing the sunset seeping through their window. Phil's eyes set on the corner of the moon that was just peeking through at the bottom of the glass, so he tilted his head to catch it in its full state. Dan's breathing settled against his shoulder as something started to make sense. He gasped, whipping his head around to Dan, "The moon." he suggested.

"But we've tried the months. They're pretty much the same, but it happens twice a month, but sometimes there, sometimes once..."

"The tides. The tide cycle. That happens on the new moon and the full moon."

"Then why are some even weaker than others? Why was I able to _move_ your hair today? That's never happened." the spirit was dubious, but the hope and excitement were audible in his voice.

Phil thought for a moment, "Well, it's summer solstice soon, meaning we're as close to the sun as we can be. The days are the longest. Maybe it's all about gravity? We have the strongest pull today, or something? And then that's why it's normally stronger in the evenings, because of the tides. It's...just a theory."

"But a damn good one." Dan grinned. Phil brushed his fingers through Dan's hair, the strands remaining unaffected. The spirit sat on the edge of the bed, his back slowly falling into the duvet as Phil lowered himself, with his knee beside Dan's body. He brushed his lips against Dan's, the brown-haired boy eagerly closing his eyes and focusing on the energy that burnt where their skin would have collided.

The sound of the door handle opening turned their heads, the two boys seeing Martyn standing in the doorway bringing his laptop into the room. The three of them froze as the two boys on top of each other laughed, Phil flinging himself beside his boyfriend as his older brother asked, "Is this...not a good time, or-" of course, Martyn only could've seen his younger brother sensually hovering over his bed. It was a compromised position, and neither of the three could determine if it would've been worse if Dan was visible to Martyn or not.

Phil chuckled, "No, it's good. What do you want?" his brother awkwardly brought the chair over from Phil's desk, sitting opposite them as he began to explain how the two of them could be taking in sponsorships and advertisements on their blog, but of course, they wouldn't have to promote anything they didn't agree with.

When Martyn stopped talking, Phil took the moment to whisper out, "What if we start writing about...us?" he asked both the others in the room.

"What do you mean?" Dan smiled.

Phil gestured towards his boyfriend to let Martyn know he'd talked, "I mean, not many people can see spirits, let alone _know_ them, let alone date one. I've not mentioned it before because I've been worried about the internet's reaction, but with the recent studies coming out, I think it would be a good time." he suggested.

Dan nodded, "I'm happy to, as long as you're sure."

Martyn brushed his hand in the air to check he could talk. His younger brother nodded, "You're mostly anonymous. I think you'd be safe to if you're prepared for the internet's reaction." Phil nodded, and so did Dan. Martyn stared at his screen, "You just got another email. Want me to read it?"

"Is it for the site?"

"Yeah." Martyn confirmed.

"Go ahead."

"Dear Phil, I am writing on behalf of Cambridge University's study on the presence of spirits. I'm a first-year student and we have recently been notified of your blog on your ongoing personal experience of living with, and befriending, a spirit. Our study is currently looking into the evidence that there are such people existing among us, with the thesis that they do. Our study originates from the early 1900s, yet with the significant increase in technology over the last five years, we are making more progress than we have done before. I hope this has intrigued you, and if so please email back and we can discuss how we will communicate. Yours sincerely, PJ Liguori, Cambridge University." Martyn looked up at Phil.

"Cool." he grinned widely, with his eyes focused on a beaming Dan.

"This is our chance." the spirit breathed.

"It is." Phil agreed.


	18. 十六 - 𝓒𝓵𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼

The next morning the two sixteen-year-olds woke up resting against each other, with their arms through the other's body and sly grins against their faces. Phil rolled onto his back, the buzz of his skin where they touched slowly fading away until he sat up, pressing his lips against Dan's and receiving the same shocks all over again.

"Bloody hell." Dan whispered between them, "It feels like I'm getting pins and needles." he was right, the energy vibrations were particularly unforgiving.

Phil smiled at him, turning to the sun peering through the window, "What do you want to do today?"

"You." Dan yawned. Phil coughed up a laugh, shaking his head. Dan giggled, "Sorry, I had to."

"Idiot."

"Yep. In all seriousness, do you want to write more for the blog?"

"About us being together?" Phil questioned. The spirit nodded, "Okay, I'd like that." Phil agreed. They sat together on their laptop, planning the post where they'd explain their dynamics. It wasn't going to be anything complicated, and it certainly wasn't going to go into detail. It was just enough to test the waters and see how the world would react.

While they were there, Phil responded to the email from Liguori, informing him that he'd be extremely pleased to take part in the studies. Dan eagerly reading his reply over his shoulder, agreeing with every word he wrote.

The two boys closed the laptop and rested against their headboard, Phil's stomach rumbling inside him, "I'm going to get some lunch, I'll be back in a moment." he smiled, Dan nodded in return, watching his boyfriend head out of their room.

As Phil entered the kitchen, he caught his mother fetching bags out of a drawer with her keys in her hand, she turned, surprised to see her son, "Oh, hey. Your dad and I are heading to town now and then are going to go on for lunch. We'll be back later." she sighed.

"Okay." Phil stated, setting the bread onto the counter and throwing slices of ham between the buttered bread, "See you soon." he quietly spoke. Katherine left the house with Nigel cheerfully waving to Phil, who bid his farewells as he passed him, carrying the sandwich up to his room and taking his place back beside Dan, "The house is ours."

"What about your brother?" Dan pointed out.

Phil shook his head, "His car isn't out the front." he stated, biting into his lunch.

"Want to just stay in here and watch our TV instead?" Dan asked. They had a television installed for Phil's fifteenth, his parents gladly storing him in his room for even longer during the day.

The black-haired boy chuckled, nodding, "Sounds good." he pressed his thumb against the remote and let it run on the cartoon series it fell onto. Dan danced his fingers over Phil's fringe, admiring the way he could move the strands under his command, the both of them chuckling at the amusement it caused the spirit. They were both mentally sixteen, strictly Dan was much older than that, although his brain hadn't progressed in the years without Phil. Yet despite this, there were times they didn't feel as though they were only a couple of years away from adulthood; they were still young children, giggling at simple things and finding endless joy in the company of the other.

"I love you." Dan whispered into the messed-up strands of Phil's dark fringe, "Everything about you. I don't remember much before you, even the life when I was alive, it's as though the moment you came into my life I didn't need the rest as it was irrelevant. You're my universe, Phil Lester, and I'm sorry I can't play with your hair like this every day of the week." he chuckled, a lost glimmer in the corner of his eyes.

"I don't need you to be here with me constantly." he whispered, "Not physically. I don't think you realise how much you light up a room you're in, even if you're presence is no more than energy in the atmosphere."

"If I light up as much as you do for me, I think I know."

"More, so." Phil pushed.

"That's not possible, you're the fucking sun." Dan playfully spat. They cackled together, Phil passing his plate onto the bedside table and pulling his laptop back onto his lap, "What are you doing?" Dan asked inquisitively.

"Let's work this out: if we're right saying it's the tides." Phil smiled, referring to the times when Dan's presence is significantly stronger than the others.

"Okay." the spirit agreed, excitement riding the tone of his voice. Phil created a diagram, jotting down the solstices, along with the moon calendar and the dates of the month. Sure enough, as they compared it to the other dates their touched burnt more than usual, they found a pattern and the days collided.

"It's just a theory." Phil reminded the two of them, his voice low with shock.

"Gravity's still just a theory. They both seem highly likely." they grinned at each other, scanning the other's eyes as their veins ran with adrenaline, feeling as though they finally had answers and something, besides each other, that they could rely on.

"I wish my grandma could hear this." Phil hummed, a sense of calm flooding over them.

Dan stayed silent, letting the warmth between their selves embrace them. His eyes fell against the chart they'd made, completed with Phil's doodles of aliens and unnamed dinosaurs. He stared at it, "This," he began, a sigh reaching his lips as he lessened the space between him and his boyfriend, "Today. It's summer solstice," he shrugged, "Most I'm going to be able to be here _properly_ for a whole 'nother year."

Phil hummed, pressing their lips together as they believed they could feel the pressure as though Dan was human, just for a split second. A chuckle of amusement was shared between them before it sank away, leaving them with aching chests and lumps in their throats. The older boy had knelt to kiss Daniel, now falling backwards back into crossed-legs to take the whole image of the spirit in front of him, burning bright by the headboard of their bed.

Phil fell still for a moment, before breathing inwards and tearing the t-shirt off of his body, letting it fall against the duvet they both sat on. He watched Dan's eyes flick downwards before they returned to his, a small smile reaching the corners of his mouth before the sound of their hearts drumming against their chests slowly swiped it calmly away. The spirit swallowed, lifting his own top away from his head as he tossed the material away, letting it evaporate before the human. It took them both back to the first moments they met, when Phil would eagerly watch Dan swap his socks to varying patterns with the ease of his own will to create them. Although, he still stuck by the socks Phil wore when they first met, and his clothes were inspired by his ever-evolving fashion.

They'd seen each other topless before, although rarely. Ever since they were young they kept their bodies to themselves, often turning away when Phil changed and Dan keeping his distance from the bathroom. As the years passed, the brown-haired boy felt an ever-growing desire to break the unspoken promise.

But, here they were against their crumpled bedsheets with Dan's fingers around his belt clasp, sliding his jeans down his legs and folding them over the bed frame. His boyfriend copied him, both of them crossed-legged in front of each other. They were bare apart from their underwear. The stars that followed them throughout their childhoods wouldn't watch during the daytime light; they kept themselves hidden behind the clouds as Dan knelt upwards with his thumbs behind the waistband of his briefs and his pulse audible in his ears. The only star that watched was the sun, and not the one tucked away from view behind half-drawn blinds.

Phil's eyes stayed on Dan as the material slid over his thighs, the older teenager admiring not only how his best friend's hips fell against his waist, but the confidence that held his back upright as he sat naked before him. He sucked in a breath, standing upwards off the bed as he removed his own boxers, then taking a place beside Dan on their pillows as his fingertips tangled in his boyfriend's ghostly hair. The spirit hummed, shuffling so he could lie against Phil's lap, closing his eyes to make sure whatever touch he was able to feel was felt with full strength. He set his focus on how each individual strand of his hair was attached to his scalp.

They lied together, Phil's hands soon removing themselves from the younger boy's head as he curled beside his body, their noses centimetres apart and pupils gazing into the others'. They smiled contently, a warmth nipping their cheeks as a cold breeze ran along their spines. The gap between their lips closed along with their eyes, as they let the burn of energy guide their mouths against each other. Phil's palm slowly dug into the bedsheets behind Daniel as their worn breaths rang shivers against their necks.

The two teenage boys felt perfect, even with the burn of loss biting at their ribcages as they longed for more. But, this is what they had and they weren't going to spend a second wishing for the impossible more. The spirit loved the human, and the human loved the spirit, even if they were the only ones who could understand that. Even if, despite them not feeling it, they were alone. They were completely and utterly alone.


	19. 十七 - 𝓒𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓑𝓸𝔁

The two boys rested with their chests heavily rising and falling and limbs as entangled as they could be. Dan's forehead was pressed partially into Phil's collar, causing the world around him to turn dark. They stayed here together, soft smiles against their lips as they listened to their heartbeats drum in unison, a marching band out of only the two of them. Water nestled in the corners of Dan's eyes, "It's not fair." he whispered.

Phil knew it wasn't, but was fixated on not focusing on it, they'd work it out between them. He believed they had a lifetime ahead of them; a lifetime for intimacy, a lifetime for love. He sat up, Dan's head remaining where he held it until he rolled himself onto his back, looking at the light beaming over them. The older boy turned his head, admiring his boyfriend's lost stare with a dose of understanding and loss, but they had what they had and it was as near as perfect as they could achieve.

Dan's experience of sex was as far as what he'd viewed in the media, either through films, YouTube, or posts on social media. He wondered what Phil understood, with his life at school, and if the human would slowly learn that Dan wasn't enough for him. The tear slipped down the side of his face, quickly wiping it away before Phil caught it.

"It's not. But what would 'fair' be?" Phil hummed, staring at the door with his hands against his lap, conscious that he was still bare, "If you weren't a spirit, you wouldn't have been able to be here every moment of my day. I couldn't have you when I wanted you because you'd be living with your parents in another house." he sighed, picking up his underwear from beside the bed and pulling them on, "God, my arms hurt." he ran his palms over his elbows, staring at them for signs of bruising. His entire body felt tired; more so than it should even if he was pressing Dan against the bed not long before, "It's like I've got the flu again." he looked at Dan with a troubled pull on his eyebrows, the both of them remembering the time his boyfriend sat by his side, talking to him as he lied still and exhausted with the virus taking over. It frustrated Dan that he couldn't fetch things for his best friend, limited to comforting words that Phil would assure him were enough.

It wasn't the first time Phil would get bouts of feeling weak. He had a passing realisation that it was around the times that Dan would be more alive in the physical plane, but couldn't figure out how it would connect. Not until Dan's guilty eyes fell away from his trusting gaze, the older boy growing with concern.

Dan sighed, "It's not fair."

"What isn't?" Phil pushed, his voice deepening with concern.

Dan titled his head back before sitting up to face Phil. But he shook his head, losing the confidence only seconds before he could share the truth.

Phil sat closer, pressing his elbows into his knees, "We didn't keep secrets when we were young." his tone was soft and forgiving, but stressed with hurt. He knew his boyfriend trusted him, therefore he grew with worrying understanding the words that lied ahead were nothing pleasant.

"We did." Dan admitted, "I did." he let the hum of the radiator burn out into the room before he sucked a breath in and admitted the weight that was chained against him for years, but he didn't do so with dry eyes, "I don't eat, I don't drink, I don't sleep. My energy is contained, so I don't need an intake, that is if I don't pass my energy out too much. Every laugh, every touch, every time I kiss you...I drain myself." Phil seemed confused, but the spirit didn't hesitate to answer questions, "So, I take a bit of yours. I have done for years. I wanted to laugh with you, so I stole the energy I needed to. I'm sorry."

"Dan?" Phil sighed.

"Yes?" he kept his eyes trained on his thumbs.

"I don't mind. If I can get energy from food, sleep, and drink, I'll have enough to pass onto you. I just need to make sure I stay healthy. I'll always take an excuse to eat more." the black-haired boy chuckled, a smaller grin appearing on Dan's lips, too, "Okay?" Phil asked.

"Yeah." Dan confirmed, "Now I feel shit that I hid that for nine years."

"I'm not surprised." Phil admitted.

There was a knock on their bedroom door followed by it flinging open. The human shrieked, pulling his pillow over his boxers to hide his body as thoroughly as he could. Katherine stood in the doorway with a box in her hand, "Phil? Got you a takeaway dessert." she eyed him suspiciously, "I'll put it here." she placed the wrapped cake on his dresser, closing the door behind herself as she left.

As the hinges secured, Dan sputtered out into laughter, covering his face with his fingers as he began to choke. Phil mimicked a deer in headlights as his eyes flashed against his naked boyfriend, "Don't you fucking laugh!" he yelped.

"Good job I'm dead." Dan remarked, shaking his head and leaning off of their bed to collect his own clothes. Phil watched the items reappear before him, still finding the mechanics of clothing spirits utterly fascinating.

"Probably one of two benefits, actually." Phil agreed, throwing himself onto his back as he rubbed his eyes with his fists.

"It was kind of hot." Dan whispered beside Phil's ear before walking to the window, peeling his shirt back over his head. He left his best friend in shock, hands still covering his sight but his lips slightly agape.

Phil sighed playfully, "I'm glad someone enjoyed it."

"Oh," Dan turned to him, "I did."

"Now I wish I made you feel guilty about stashing my energy." the older boy pouted, taking out his laptop and turning the device on.

"Too late." Dan winked, taking a seat beside Phil, who was opening his emails to read the response from Liguori.

' _Hello Again, Phil!_  
 _Thank you so much for responding, I'm glad that you seem keen to take part. I was hoping to meet you in person to ask a few questions and to get to know you better - maybe at a local café? My research is primarily focused on capturing the presence of spirits in a way visible to_ _non-seers_ _and understanding all the ways spirits can be present on our plane.'_

They took note at how Liguori knew the correct terminology.

_'I hope you're still interested in meeting up. If so, I am available the whole of this weekend if you have a place and time you would like to meet?_   
_Many thanks,_   
_PJ Liguori'_

Phil replied to the message suggesting his local café for lunch as he knew somewhere that served incredible lattés, and wasn't comfortable with bringing the uni student to his place quite yet, especially on the matter of spirits. Dan smiled contently, resting his temple over Phil's shoulder as his boyfriend gently ran his fingers over his curls.

The sickness Phil felt still swam across his body, draining his arms of energy. He groaned as he lied down, the spirit continuing to huddle into his side, "I feel like shit." Phil admitted.

"I'm sorry." Dan sighed, "I shouldn't have-"

"Dan." the human warned, not needing to spill another word as to why it was worth the illness. The truth was, over the last year, the older boy was getting worsening bouts of nausea. He let Dan hold onto the hope that it was simply him borrowing his energy, but he had more sense than that, "I know what you said about energy, but I am going to get checked at the doctor's first. This is becoming too regular. Hopefully you're right, and the doctor finds nothing, but I don't want to just assume if there could be something seriously wrong."

"Okay." Dan hastily nodded, "That sounds like a clever idea." Phil looked over at the boxed cake on his cupboard, eagerly eyeing it as Dan chuckled, "Go for it, I won't hold you back."

Phil grinned, walking over to the door, "I'm just going to get some coffee, too," he decided, "I'll be back up in a moment."

"Sure." Dan nodded, watching his boyfriend scuttle out of the room and down the stairs. He walked to their bedroom window, placing his elbows on the windowsill and letting his gaze fall out into the open space before him. He believed he should long to travel out beyond the garden space, but if he was honest, he was quite content with Phil, right where they were.

The boy with the black side-fringe flicked the kettle on and took out a mug from the kitchen cupboards, his stare keeping away from his mother as she entered the same room. She sat at the counter, leaning her body weight onto the sides as her unnerving tone settled around them, "What was going on earlier?" she asked.

The rhythm of Phil's pulse quickened, but he hummed, "What do you mean?" he played the fool's act, pretending to be ignorant to avoid telling Katherine the truth.

"I mean," she began, "You were pretty much naked on your bed when I entered." she paused, "You were clothed when your dad and I left this morning, and even so, you've not got changed in your room since you were six."

The kettle's switch flicked off and the boiling water slowly fell silent, leaving the room empty of sound, besides from his broken breathing. Phil kept quiet, unsure whether it was best to admit the truth or navigate his way around a lie he couldn't find. It was summer, but it was cool, and she was right, he didn't get changed in his room. The sixteen-year-old groaned, pouring the water into his mug and turning around to Katherine, "Dan saw me naked, so what?" he shrugged, taking a sip from the hot drink and feeling burns crawl against his lips.

"So what? Phil, Dan..." she shook her head, "he just doesn't exist. How the hell do you expect me to accept my son pretending to have sex with his imaginary friend?" her eyes were trained against the kitchen window.

"He does exist." Phil corrected her with his voice deepened to a hum, "And he has done since I was seven. I didn't have sex with him because he's a fucking spirit, so I can't. If I made an imaginary friend, I would make that possible. I'm sorry that I'm a fucking teenager with a boyfriend, what are you trying to prove?" he began to walk out of the room, his palms wrapped around the heated ceramic.

His mum spoke up, "I'm trying to free you, Phil. You can't have a future with something that's dead."

"I can't have a future _without_ him." Phil admitted, dragging his limbs up the stairs and back to his bedroom. He was telling the truth, because he didn't see a life without Daniel. Every stage of his future was based around the presence of the spirit, and he wouldn't have it any other way until the end of his life. He wouldn't accept any other way, _"Even if it kills me."_ he whispered to himself, _"I'd be better of dead than alone."_


	20. 十八 - 𝓘 𝓢𝓮𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾

Phil extended his hand across the café table, shaking the university student's hand as he held a hot drink in the other, placing it down in front of him before he took a seat. It was a homely atmosphere: the space was small, but the furniture was comfortable and the lights above their heads emitted warm light, setting a blanket across the room. It was modern and clean, but the cakes behind the counter were the sort you'd feel blessed if your grandparents served them for you. Phil loved the little place.

"PJ Liguori," the mop-headed teenager greeted, sitting opposite Phil, "Nice to finally meet you in person."

"You, too," the other boy returned, "Phil Lester. I keep the last name off the internet for privacy reasons."

"Completely understandable. I would, too." PJ sipped at his drink before he framed his next question, "Do you mind if I ask you a few things? It's actually an honour to meet you."

"Of course!" Phil smiled, not deeming himself to be an 'honour', but took the compliment nonetheless, "Whatever you want."

"Thank you. If you have any questions about the research at any time, do speak up."

"That's one thing, actually," Phil remembered, "What was it about _me_ in particular?" he had his suspicions, but wanted to hear it for himself.

"Well," Liguori began, "There isn't another blog in Britain about someone having an ongoing connection to a spirit. There are people who see them, of course, and sometimes more than once, even exchanging conversations. But, very few people in the world have ever formed a friendship with a spirit. With your recent update as well, none other than you have dated one as far as research can take us." PJ seemed to be enamoured by Phil's natural gift, the black-haired boy's cheeks heating slightly under the praise, "I can see them, too."

"Spirits?"

PJ chuckled, "Yes-"

"Sorry, that was obvious."

"I've only seen the same one three times, that's the most I've ever managed." he paused, "I couldn't believe it when I found your blog when I was younger. Firstly, I wasn't alone. Secondly, the extent this skill could be taken. I know a lot about your experience from your website, but I want to hear some things from you. It's still a bit unbelievable, if I'm honest."

"I don't blame you. My mum still doesn't think Dan exists." Phil took another sip from his mug.

PJ furrowed his eyebrows, "How so?"

"Ever since I was seven, when I first saw Dan, she was reluctant to believe. It was understandable and the doctors thought I was psychotic. But, my grandma also had the gift. I spent a few years with her learning about spirits, as I've written on the blog, but then she passed away. I learnt to keep quiet to not concern my parents, but then I fell in love with Dan. Things like that don't stay secret for long."

"I suppose not." PJ agreed, "So...you've been friends with Dan for..."

"Nine years." Phil grinned, "Been together for about a year."

"That's amazing. He writes the blog with you, doesn't he?"

"Yes."

"Is there anyone else in your life who can see spirits?"

"It was only my grandma and some strangers online. You, now, but that's it."

"It's a gene that allows us to see them. One in four chance if a parent carries it; it's inheritance is weak. As to why the amount it affects individuals varies, it's unknown. It's as good a guess as why other genetic inheritances affect people more than others. We're hoping to prove they exist to others. We were looking at what spirits were and how they interacted with humanity, but you've answered all our questions there."

"And you believe me, just like that? My blog is based off some nineteenth-century books in terms of research."

"It's a start, and you're a reliable source. Your blog isn't a new one." Liguori pointed out. Phil nodded before the student began to talk again, "Have you ever managed to prove Dan exists to non-seers?" Phil explained the photograph he took of his best friend that one time, and their understanding of the tidal changes and gravity affecting Dan's strength on the physical plane: a post they hadn't had the chance to post on their website yet. PJ sat, fascinated by every word, "That's amazing. Well, we knew spirits existed through gravitational forces, but not down to that detail. We didn't have the resources to experiment. But, we have managed to make tests that have been successes. Between hydrometers and similar examination methods, we've been able to measure gravity, and we thought about the coin test, you know? The one where you suspend a coin from string in water and find its specific gravity. Well, we learnt that doing this in the presence of a spirit increases the mass of the suspended coin. The closer the spirit is, the more of an effect it has. So, we created a tool that combines these to get a specific gravity reading." Liguori pulled out a glass cylinder with digital measurements on the side, inside was some form of thin wire and a punctured copper coin hung from it. PJ kept talking as Phil examined the item, "Right now the specific gravity is reading normal, but put it by a spirit and it will dramatically increase."

Phil continued grasping the item, twisting it and staring at the signs of water splash around inside, "This looks amazing."

"Thank you." PJ responded.

"How did you get the spirits to check it worked?" Phil questioned.

"Well, there's three of us researching who can actually see spirits clearly. This kind of study attracts those who are familiar with it. There's twenty of us on the team in total, ten without any first-hand experience. That was until this measuring device, which we call the animeter. Those of us who could see navigated it around the spirits, testing the pulse on it." the university student pointed to the measuring contraption as he spoke.

Phil sucked in a breath, "Want to come back to my place? Firstly, I want to introduce you to Dan, but secondly, I think he should speak for himself."

Liguori nodded, "Just a question, why didn't he come? I didn't expect him to, of course, but I didn't _not,_ either."

"Don't you know? Spirits can't move from their place of death. They have about two blocks' distance in circumference from where they died. I don't share that information with anyone who can't see them, I can't risk my parents finding out and moving us away from Dan, so please, keep it quiet."

"Of course." PJ agreed, "I'd love to meet him."

Phil joined Liguori in his car as he directed him the way back to his home, them both closing the doors behind them as they left the vehicle parked against the pavement. The black-haired boy was relieved that his parents' car wasn't parked against their drive, saving one more conversation from being addressed, "Come in." Phil smiled, leading PJ into the living room, "Let me just get Dan." he smiled, walking up the stairs and opening the bedroom door. Dan was sat crossed-legged on the floor, with Phil's laptop autoplaying YouTube in front of him.

"Hey!" the spirit eagerly greeted, standing upright, "Back already?"

"Yeah. PJ's downstairs, actually-" Phil was prepared to encourage Dan to meet him, but he didn't need to set a word on the speech.

"He is?" Dan excitedly asked, walking towards the door.

"Yeah, and Dan?"

"Mm?" his boyfriend hummed.

"He can see spirits. Although, not as much as me." but, he was already following the brown-haired boy down the stairs, back into the living room where PJ was sat. Dan stood by the door, anxiously peering around the doorway as Phil stood beside him, slowly walking in as his eyes stayed on Dan, "Sorry, I'm back." he said to Liguori, "Right, Dan's just coming in now."

The spirit stepped in, crawling up to Phil's side as his gaze assessed the other human. He took note of his matted, curly hair and curious green eyes that held themselves directly in his eye-line, "You can see me." Dan whispered, a grin creeping into the corners of his lips.

The three of them stayed silent until the university student nodded, "Yeah, I can." he could hear him clearer than he could see him, "You're hazy, very hazy, but I can see you."

"And hear me." Dan thought aloud.

Phil stepped out of the room, whispering, "Sorry." as he left. He pressed his back against the wall as he dragged his sleeve against his damp cheeks.

Dan appeared at his side, "Oh my God, Phil..." he reassured, allowing the human to hold his forehead against his shoulder, "Don't cry!" he whined through his own teary eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologised, "But it's been nine years, Dan. Nobody's seen you like I can, and hear you like I do, for nine years." he took in a breath and looked upwards, "I'm not crazy."

"I'm not so sure about that." they sputtered into laughter, walking back into the room and taking seats opposite PJ.

"Sorry about that." Phil breathed.

PJ shook his head, "No worries, I kind of feel the same."


	21. 十九 - 𝓚𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮

The three boys were sat around the coffee table, endlessly exchanging stories and information, gushing over the knowledge they could share. Phil watched his boyfriend as his expression shone with a hope he'd not seen since before they were teenagers. It was this moment that he realised how alone Dan was, even though he'd never admit it to the older boy himself.

The sound of keys echoed from the hallway, the three of them turning around, facing away from the animeter they were playing with. Katherine walked into the living room, placing her belongings on a side table. She analysed the two of them, her eyes flicking between the humans as she questioned PJ's presence, "Hello there." she smiled nervously.

"Hey, Mum." Phil greeted, "This is PJ Liguori. He's from Cambridge University and is researching spirits."

He watched his mother deflate as she sighed, "Oh, okay. Nice to meet you, PJ."

"You, too. Mrs Lester, if you don't mind, could you take a seat?"

She nodded, "Of course." although she still seemed hesitant. She sat on the remaining free chair, eyeing the measuring device in the centre of her table.

"Mrs Lester,"

"Please, call me Katherine." she smiled.

"Katherine," PJ corrected, "I understand your situation with Phil. I'm impressed, honestly. It wouldn't have been easy having a son who can see spirits, especially one who has the gift to the extent Phil does. Honestly, no one on record has the same extent to the ability as Phil."

"A gift?" Kath pondered, still anxiously looking at the animeter.

"Yes, definitely. I can see spirits as well, enviously not as much as Phil. But, there's a few others in the same research module at Cambridge."

"You...can see Dan?" she asked, eyes eagerly setting over the student.

PJ nodded, as Phil whispered, "Yeah, he can hear him, too." every fibre in Phil's body felt as though it was vibrating with excitement as he contained the emotions he felt.

PJ kneeled towards the table, "Katherine, do you know about specific gravity?"

She shrugged, "Sort of." so Liguori explained the dynamics of it, and how the animeter worked, "So, if the number increases, that's a spirit?"

"Yes. Right Dan, can you move to the far wall?" PJ asked.

"Sure." he smiled, still finding it strange to respond to someone other than his boyfriend.

"The number's decreasing." Katherine pointed out.

"Yes. Because Dan's presence is decreasing as he walks away. Now, Dan, can you slowly walk back."

Katherine wiped her eye and stood up, brushing her palms on her jeans, "I'm sorry, thank you so much for showing me this." she was anxiously scratching her elbows as she flooded with overwhelm.

"No worries. Thank you for letting me show you this." PJ responded as Katherine hastily made her way out of the room, the three of them then hearing footsteps up the stairs.

"Thank you." Phil smiled. PJ simply nodded.

"Dan?" Liguori questioned, "Mind if I ask you where you get your energy from? Spirits have to find something in the physical world to drain, and something significant, otherwise they start to disappear after fifty years or so."

The spirit chuckled, "Phil, funnily enough. Before that, I kept present by stealing minute amounts of energy from the log fire the Lester's neighbours keep going. Although, I struggled through summer."

"Oh." he looked concerned, with his lips drawn inwards, "You managed to stay here with something as little as a log fire?"

"Yeah, well, only up until the sixty-year mark, when Phil came along. I didn't age and wasn't doing much, so I guess I didn't need much, either."

He nodded, taking a sigh, "It's been amazing to meet you both, I've definitely got a lot to think about and tell the others. Am I alright to email you still, Phil?"

"Of course." the three boys stood up, brushing themselves off.

"You can keep that animeter, we've got more at Uni." Liguori smiled, walking through the corridor with the others, "Dan, can I have a word with you?"

"I'll just go up to check on Mum. Have a safe journey, PJ."

"Thank you." the student smiled, waving his hand to the side as Phil walked up the stairs. He sighed, "Dan, you can't take energy from Phil."

"What?" the younger boy furrowed his eyebrows, a concerned pinch fell on his lips, "Why? He eats, sleeps, I get his energy and he just rejuvenates."

Liguori shook his head, "It's not the energy inside someone that keeps them going throughout the day, it's their core energy. Think about a nuclear reactor: it would be like your taking the actual rods away from the inside of it, not the energy it produces. Dan, living as you are, I'm surprised he's not seriously ill."

Dan's face slowly began to fall as he thought about how his boyfriend had been feeling recently. He chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled his lips together, "That can't be true."

"I'm really sorry, Dan." PJ sighed pitifully, "Look, I'll see you again soon, we'll work something out." Dan nodded at him, waving as the human closed the door behind himself, walking away to the car and away from the house. The sense of loneliness that had withered away only hours ago came growing back, settling as a weight against him. He empathised with the illness Phil felt.

The older boy knocked on his mother's door, slowly turning the handle as he entered the room he hadn't been in for months, "Mum?" he asked. She turned around, looking at her fragile son who had his arms curled between each other, almost frightened to be in her presence. A breath escaped her lips as she patted the bed beside her, "Is it alright if I sit?" Phil asked.

Katherine nodded, holding her arm around her youngest child and pulling him into her body, "How about I talk to this Dan?" she suggested quietly, her nerves vibrating inside her as she nervously approached the subject.

Phil slowly nodded, his lips drying as his eyes assessed his mum, "If you want to, at some point." he agreed, still being embraced into her.

"I remember when you were younger, I picked you up from school halfway through the day as you bawled your eyes out, begging to come home. A boy half your size pushed you over and kicked you for 'talking to the wall and ignoring him'." she brushed her fingertips through his dyed hair, "You were about five years old, and every day after that I wished you didn't have your...ability because I believed if you didn't, you'd be happy." she pulled her arm away and fiddled with the sleeves on her cardigan, "You were happy from around the age of ten. Maybe even younger. I just didn't let myself believe it was because of your ability. You're the happiest boy I know, yet I still thought if I could get rid of Dan, you'd be happier." she ran her palms over her eyes, her voice strained, "I'm sorry, Phil. For nine years I've been trying to remove the very thing that makes you as happy as you are."

"Mum," Phil whispered, his own eyes welling up, but he blinked them away, "it's okay. I forgive you. You've just been trying to do what you think's best. You just wanted me to be normal." he admitted for her, "I'm not going to get cross at you. It's not your fault they don't give out guides on how to deal with kids that have entirely unique abilities."

"It's a bit like a superpower, really. In fact, it is." she took in a sharp breath and slammed her hands into her lap, "I've bloody well messed this up. I've missed out on you, Phil. I've missed out on your life, and I'm ashamed to admit I barely know a thing about you. I want it all back, the years I wasted. I could have been learning about how to support you, not..."

"Mum," Phil chuckled, "Don't worry." he thought for a moment, "You know, I have a website. It's how PJ found me. Well, Dan and me. We share a blog. I'll show it to you...if you want."

Katherine beamed, nodding at the mature teenager in front of her, whom she barely raised, "I would love that." she agreed, "I really would. Phil?"

"Mm?" he hummed.

"I don't expect you to just start trusting me. I don't expect us to suddenly start acting like a family." she pursed her lips, taking time before she continued, "You already have a family. I'm not expecting to suddenly be able to intrude on you and Dan."

Phil stood up, placing his hands in his pockets and shrugging, "I'd like to try and fix things, Mum. You're my mother, I've always respected you and wanted you as part of my life. But Mum, if you want me to be part of the family, you said it yourself, it's Dan as well. I love him and I'd choose him over the world."

"I know." Katherine finally admitted. She wished more than anything that Dan was human, not only so she could properly meet him, but so that her son could have a normal life with his partner. She didn't quite understand yet that Dan and Phil kind of liked being unique; even if they were both human, they knew they'd stand out. What's more to add one of them being dead to the mix? Katherine smiled, "Your dad and I would love you and Dan to join us, Phil. I'm sorry I didn't say that nine years ago."

Daniel stood on the other side of the door, the words of his boyfriend's mother flowing through the old wooden piece. He grinned, wrapping his arms around his body, despite letting the tears fall down his cheeks, knowing he couldn't stay for long. Just as things were becoming perfect, everything was to go wrong, and the spirit knew that. But no one else did. No one else would have to know until it's too late, because if he could save them a few weeks so they could live in the way Phil dreamt for them to, he would do just that. They could live in a fantasy for a while, and then he'd say goodbye. He was going to have to say goodbye.


	22. 二十 - 𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓷

The long, warm summer days were cutting short as the orange and purple leaves fell from the winding branches of the town's trees. It was a beautiful sight, with children running up and down, occasionally throwing handfuls of crisp nature at each other. Even Dan and Phil sat in their garden with the human's hands shovelling through the colours as the spirit eagerly watched. They were always children at heart, despite being sixteen.

Phil's mother would occasionally watch from the window, a small smile against her lips as she watched her joyful child never cease to be happy. They occasionally talked, and she'd become tolerant of Dan's presence, ceasing her desires to "fix" her son and banish the spirit altogether. However, she was still to accept the two of them loving each other. She tried, yet somewhere inside of her, she felt as though Phil deserved better. She couldn't support them, because she knew they couldn't have what she deemed they should. If Daniel was human, she wouldn't have a moment of hesitation. But, he wasn't, and she wasn't able to forget that.

As they sat together on the patio of the garden, hands in the autumnal leaves as they listened to the crisp nature crackle, Phil felt a sense of loss. What his mother said many months ago gave him a hope he'd learnt not to desire, thinking they'd finally be what they should. As each day passed he learnt they simply weren't meant to be family, but he had Dan.

The spirit also believed things were going to turn, allowing for him to thank Phil's parents for bringing his incredible partner into the world, before admitting to them all he had to go. But the moment never came, so neither did the truth.

It nestled on him every day, moving between the tip of his tongue to the back of his throat like an unswallable kernal; he was constantly aware of it, and Phil knew something bothered him. They found it concerning when something bothered the other, because if they didn't instantly share it, it was something drastic about the both of them.

The two sixteen-year-olds slowed their movements, taking a breath inwards and smiling at each other. There were words unspoken between them and secrets untold to the point they were nearly lies. But they knew better than to let those tear them apart, because no matter where they were, nor how the felt, Dan was always Phil's priority, and Phil was always Dan's.

"Phil?" Dan whispered, etching closer towards him.

"Yeah?" his boyfriend quietly responded, losing himself in the spirit's brown eyes.

"What's your plans for our future? What do you have in mind?" he asked.

Phil sighed thoughtfully, resting his back against the wooden bench behind them, "Well, I'm staying here, of course. I'm not moving away from you. I'll need to discuss it with my parents, but I imagine I'll take this house over." he grinned, admiring the curls against Dan's head. Phil wore his glasses over his nose, pushing them upwards as he imagined what the spirit would look like wearing frames of his own.

"What about beyond that?" Dan pondered, "What about family?" he slowed his voice as he spoke, realising that for a moment he hoped he'd be part of this future. But he ended his sentence hoping to persuade Phil away from him, giving the human a chance at a normal life.

The black-haired boy chuckled, "I want whatever I can get, as long as I live here with you. We've got our blog. Maybe we'll find a child who can see spirits, too." nothing seemed to faze the human. Not one fear held him back, nor did a thought of doubt crawl into his mind. Dan nodded, pulling his elbows into his sides as he looked down at the uncut grass. He felt a waft through his stomach as he noticed Phil's hand passing through him playfully, "But it's alright, Dan, because I've got you and you've got me."

"Yeah." Dan sniffled, the muscles in his throat clawing at the lump forming.

"I'll never be lonely with you. I don't mind if our neighbours think I'm a mad old man, talking to myself in the back garden. As long as I've got you." he repeated.

Dan's ears rang inside his skull as his heart shook against his ribcage, every beat pulling at his bones. His chest ached and felt like he'd been thrown against a wall a dozen times, it was pain he hadn't felt since he was down in the well seventy years ago. Dan held his breath, the blur of tears frothing beneath his eyelids as he stared at his hands, half expecting them to have his guilt written across his skin.

Phil watched over him, a worried glance settling over his love as he breathed sharply in panic and defeat. The words nestled against his tongue as Phil gently spoke out, asking, "What is it?" his own throat began to tighten and his cheeks welcomed damp. He was absolutely terrified to ask the question, but he knew if he didn't then the guilt would tear his boyfriend apart, if the concern didn't do the same to him beforehand.

Dan shook his head, his features contorting into a wretched weep as he begged himself not to know what he did. He half-heartedly cursed PJ, although inside himself knowing it was likely better that the boy did speak up otherwise Dan would ultimately be murdering Phil without either of them understanding the illness falling on him.

Phil's sickness was slowly growing worse, and it was every stomach cramp and headache complaint that gnawed at Dan like a dog to a bone. There was no doubt inside of him that he was the cause, and it was him that was going to solve it, even if it destroyed him in the process. Both literally, and figuratively.

"Dan...please." Phil begged, wiping his fingertips against his weeping eyes as he watched his spirit love suffer through his unspoken distress.

Dan's eyes pulled themselves towards his human, the brown swirls outlining his pupils glistening in water. His nose was blotchy and his eyes were swollen. The expression on Phil's face taught Dan that they shared the same distress. He broke through the scratches in his throat as he hoarsely whispered, "I can't stay." he admitted.

Phil chuckled, the corners of his lips even peeling upwards. He was unsure if it was relief, thinking that Dan might have been exaggerating their predicament, or if it was disbelief. He was an optimist after all. As Dan's pained features remained unchanged, his own face began to fall, "What do you mean?" he'd never seen the brown-haired boy in such distress.

"I mean...PJ told me, before he left the first time he came around, that the energy I take from you isn't the replaceable energy you get from sleeping and eating. He compared it to a nuclear reactor, as though I was taking your core away. I'm killing you, Phil. I've been killing you for nine years." he wept, the words barely audible through his strained voice.

Phil sat with his limbs drawn across his body and the rhythm of his heart violently increasing, "Are you sure?" he simply asked.

Dan laughed, scraping the fabric of his long-sleeves against his cheeks to dampen the wetness, "Of course I fucking am." he pathetically cried out, "You've felt it, Phil. The sickness: the headaches, the stomach aches, the nausea. It's all been me and I knew it before PJ, I just tried so hard to deny it all. Phil, if I don't go, you're going to die."

"What would happen to you? You wouldn't have anyone else's energy." Phil shook. He still held more concern for the spirit's existence than he did his own.

"Fuck me, Phil. It's _you_. I'm already bloody well dead!"

"Not to me, Dan. You're not dead to me. You're the most alive person I know and have more bloody sense than anyone else on this fucking planet!" his hand bashed a pile of leaves he'd formed only minutes ago, letting the crumpled nature scatter across the patio, "I'm not alone with you, Dan. And that's the only reason I'm not alone."

"Phil-" the spirit begged.

"No, Dan. If I can't live with you, I don't want to fucking live at all. I'd rather have eight weeks left to live, knowing I got to spend every minute with you, rather than eighty years without you. That's not living, not for me. I need you Dan," his voice cracked, "please don't tell me this is real." his lungs gasped for air before he wept into the collar of his shirt, dampening the fabric around his neck as his boyfriend fell to his side, wrapping his untouchable hand around his torso and placing his temple against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." Dan hiccuped, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"You should have told me sooner." Phil sighed once he'd caught his breath.

"I was going to, but every day I felt as though admitting it to you would be condemning the rest of our days together. I don't know how many I've got, Phil."

" _We've_ got." Phil corrected, "I give more of a fuck about you than I do myself. We'll work this out, Dan. We'll find a way. We always have done, right?" Phil sought an answer in the fragile world their existence was placed in. Dan grinned, nodding, feeding off of the human's hope, "I'm glad you told me, Danny. I'd rather we did this together than you did it alone, no matter what you think."

Dan nodded, still wrapped against his boyfriend, "I love you." he whimpered.

Phil nuzzled his face into the air above Dan's collar, nodding against him as he pathetically and quietly cried, "I know." the words following simply being, "I love you, too."

It was Dan and Phil against the world, with the stars watching above as they remained curled together, facing downwards away from the night sky. It was always them against the rest, and it had been from the first moment Phil caught a glimpse of him in this garden. He'd cursed them from the start, but even as he dampened his shirt with the tears from his eyes, and his heart ached in his chest, he believed it was worth it. It would always be worth it, even if it killed him; even if it killed them.


	23. 二十一 - 𝓘𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱

"You deserve better than me." the seventeen-year-old whispered as he clawed at the bedsheets above his waist.

Dan chuckled uncomfortably, "What? Of course not."

"You got me because I'm the only one with this level of ability. Anyone could have had it; anyone else _should_ have had it." he sighed, hitting the mound of covers he'd formed and letting his back fall against the headboard of their double bed.

Restless nights like these weren't uncommon anymore. Dan spent countless bedtimes easing Phil through his panic and concerns, although sometimes he shared them and couldn't reason them himself. Every day Phil woke up, instantly turning his head to the spirit resting against the pillow beside him. Dan wasn't aware he did this until he caught him one morning in the flurry of terror, questioning him on what he was doing, _"Sometimes I think I'll wake up and you'd have gone."_ he responded before turning away with tears forming in his eyes as his heart rate slowly fell.

Dan promised him that unless it was out of his control, he'd let Phil know every thought he had about letting Phil go. The poor human boy had buried himself in fears he couldn't ease and they were eating at him more than the sickness from his energy being drained.

 _"Maybe they're caused by the energy being drained."_ Dan thought to himself as he wrapped himself against the older boy. Phil sucked in a breath, scraping the fabric of the bed covers against his eyes before pulling his laptop onto his lap and opening their website.

The blog had been doing outstandingly well and Phil was even making a substantial living off of it. He'd been updating with information about Cambridge University's research and his involvement with them, which although hadn't been much progress, there was plenty to write about. PJ came around every few months, but as Phil's anxiety increased, the days between them meeting did too.

 _"I just don't think it's helpful for me to come around."_ PJ told Dan the last time he was leaving, _"He's becoming too focused on fixing this. I want to help, I really do, but I'm a nineteen-year-old collecting research. I'm so glad I've made friends out of this, but I think me coming round just focuses Phil too much on the wrong thing."_

 _"I get it."_ Dan replied, _"I know what you mean, too. Keep in touch though, alright?"_

 _"Definitely."_ PJ reassured the spirit, _"I'll still come around. We'll get back to routine once Phil's better."_ the student chuckled, the sounds of amusement fading out as they both realised that was either without Phil, or without Dan.

Dan nodded, wiping his thumb against his eye before subtly turning away, _"Yeah. Of course."_ he sighed, _"See you around, Peej."_

***

The spirit looked over his boyfriend's laptop, watching his tabs disappear between research and their website. He sighed, sitting between Phil and the screen, demanding his attention to be diverted, "Stop, please." Dan slowly begged.

The black-haired boy nodded, closing the device and chucking it to the side, running his fingernails against the back of his neck. It was a nervous habit he'd formed after Katherine began to discuss what he was to do for universities. If he was to attend, which he didn't want to, he was going to have to apply in the next few months. He'd discussed taking a gap year, but she still wanted him to have a look.

Phil's lip was sucked between his teeth as he nodded, diverting his eyes away from the concerned boy in his lap. Dan's brown eyes sank into his face, the light from the window behind them reflecting in the left of his pupils, bouncing off the water forming against them. The room around them was still, apart from the sniffling of the older boy and the heavy breathing of the other, as they held themselves motionless.

"Phil." Dan's voice cracked, although he had no more words to say. His best friend didn't respond, his mind lost in a world away from the one he had to confront on a daily basis. The spirit thought the human might be less present than he was, and he wasn't the one who was literally dead.

Dan sighed, ducking his head below Phil's to press their lips together. The touch was barely noticeable, only a few faint hairs responding to the change in the air. Daniel pulled away, a soft cry escaping his lips at the lack of response, but at this moment Phil's lips pulled into a slight curl, his black fringe falling messily against his forehead as he returned the kiss.

When the spirit pulled away to give Phil a chance to breathe, he looked around, noticing the three scented candles placed against the cupboards around the room as part of Phil's rising obsession. Daniel grinned, turning towards his boyfriend and raising his eyebrows as he watched Phil watch inquisitively. The spirit knew he could absorb energy from fire, so as he sat with his legs straddling Phil's thighs, he focused on where they were, the kindles on them slowly igniting.

Phil giggled, shaking his head at the trick and pressing his mouth back where Dan's was positioned. He watched as the younger boy pulled his t-shirt over his head, over his straightened hair and to the floor besides them to disperse beyond Phil's sight. His fingertips ran where the spirit's head laid in the air above him, wishing he understood how he could straighten his hair when it didn't truly exist. He wanted to know what it would feel like to dance each individual strand between his knuckles, combing it away from his eyes.

Phil inhaled deeply, moving his own top over his body and over the side of the bed, his palms soon hovering where he should have felt the burn of Dan's energy, if only they weren't nearing the equinox. Daniel sucked in a breath, stifling his own whimpers that begged to feel Phil's touch in the way they'd grown to love. It wasn't 'normal' but nothing about their relationship and them was 'normal'. They couldn't feel the pressure as they pushed against each other's skin, but they could feel the vibrations in the particles in every fibre of their colliding energies as though they were becoming one. That would be if summer solstice wasn't still many months away.

The two boys tore down their jeans, Dan quickly returning to his seat above Phil. The stars peered in from the half-drawn curtains directly behind the bed. Dan thought Phil's idea to move the bed from the right side of the room to the centre was nothing less than genius. The first time they sensually moved their palms against themselves at the same time, on behalf of the other was only a handful of months ago. The open curtains meant they could be watched by the eyes in the sky that had comforted them as they grew together over the years.

Dan removed the last of his underwear, but instead of holding himself over his boyfriend, he fell to his left side, burying his forehead into the dip in his neck where his throat ended and collar began. He wondered what the bone would feel like against his own skull, with his arm wrapped over his body and their legs intertwined. They lied together, the candlelight flickering beside their heads, with the night sky warmly gazing over them in its contrasting cool tones. The only sound in Phil's ears was the ringing of silence, and in Dan's, the sound of two boys with their clotheless backs facing outwards as they breathed in each other's ears.

They laid exposed in every way possible: they were under an undrawn curtain in the early hours of the winter evening, their chests raw with growing pain, and their naked forms seemingly tangled into one. But, they lacked the touch of the other under the dimness of the room's light. In that moment they should have felt like they'd never be alone, yet they felt the grasp of isolation. They were so, so alone.

Phil knew that Dan was perfect, and Dan knew that Phil was, too. They never had, and never would, wish to change the other, even if it eased their circumstances. They'd only ever hated themselves, agonising over how they couldn't be faultless for the other. They longed for a day where Phil's pits of ocean would meet the earthy brown of Dan's eyes as their pupils glistened with hope. But that childlike desire diminished over the years, burning out like the lit flames around them. Yet, they'd still think they were perfect. They'd still know they cared.

In this moment, with the distant hum of passing cars against the old town's road, Dan glided his fingertips against Phil's chest before flattening his palm and pushing down to where the nerves in his skin should have pressed against his boyfriend. But instead, his palm fell through, and the knot in his throat escaped in a cry, his knees buckling to his chest as the young boy wept.

For the first time, they admitted to themselves that they were broken. No amount of love could fulfil the desperation they had to touch. But nothing would isolate them more than if they moved away, or one of them lost the other. So behind his tears, Phil whispered, "I love you, Dan. I need to be with you, I need to stay by your side. If you've got to go, I'm going with you. I don't care if it kills me because without you I'm dead anyway."

"Okay." Dan whimpered, the fight he normally had to persuade Phil to continue without him dwindled away from his tongue. He knew that if Phil was the spirit and it was his own heart that pumped blood, he couldn't go on alone. Not after ten years. Phil wasn't just part of his life; he was the entirety of it.

"You can use my energy until I die, right?" the older boy croaked, "That way you'll also be around for longer. We'll go together."

"I guess, but Phil, I'm not giving up. We'll figure this out."

"But, just in case?" the human asked.

Dan sighed, nodding his head although Phil wasn't aware, "Just in case."

It was just in case there was no other way; just to ensure Phil's last breath would be beside Dan's. Just so that if their stars burn out, their lights would fade in unison at a planned and perfect time.


	24. 二十二 - 𝓕𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓽 𝓓𝓸𝓸𝓻

The youngest Lester sat with his head in his palms, his feet drumming against the floor as his elbows dug into the kitchen counter. He felt the nerves along his back and shoulders vibrate, and with it, his arms shook. Daniel sat beside him, placing a hand between his shoulder blades as his eyes tried to find his, "Phil?" he quietly asked.

The eighteen-year-old was hunched over his gut, the sickness in his stomach turning to cramps over the last few weeks. His head was pounding and his limbs were becoming harder to lift, but the physical illness was barely noticeable to him. He turned to Dan and chuckled, "Hey, Dan." the spirit uncomfortably shuffled, removing his palm and sitting upright. Phil's head darted behind him to the window as a large red van casually passed by.

Dan nervously chuckled, his fingertips drumming against the side, "Do you want to watch a film upstairs?" he suggested, shuffling closer once he caught Phil's eye-line.

The older boy giggled, "Sure, after I get dinner out the oven."

Daniel sighed, sliding off of the stool and walking around to the other side of the counter, his elbows opposite Phil's and his head ducking down to his level. Dan ran his palm over his forehead, the fringe on his face dragging into a quiff, "You didn't put food in the oven." he quietly hummed, watching his best friend's eyes.

"Oh." Phil puzzlingly sighed, looking towards the oven, but Dan wouldn't let his eyes away from his own, "Dan, I'm okay-"

"Bullshit." Dan snapped, standing upright and walking to the doorway. He swallowed to pull back the water in his eyes, _"I don't want to stick around if I've already lost you."_ he dragged the thought away, shamefully tugging at his jumper's sleeves, "Why haven't you gone back to therapy, yet?" he wearily asked. He felt helpless; he wanted to be able to take him away, take him to the countryside so they could have a break and get out of this fucking house, but he couldn't. Dan was stuck here, so they'd both be. He couldn't even book a God damn therapy session for him.

"I just haven't got round to booking another appointment." he shrugged, standing up and opening the oven. He looked up, closing the door and pursing his lips, "Right. Didn't put food in."

The spirit could see him shaking, and the muscles in his cheeks twitch. He sighed, turning away and walking up the stairs to their bedroom, "Call your brother," he told Phil, "you haven't talked in a while."

Phil's roots were spreading down his hair, the natural lighter tones flowing into the dyed black. He nodded, following Dan a few meters behind, his fingers dialling his brother on his phone as he agreed, "Okay." he wasn't sure why Dan wanted him to call Martyn, but his boyfriend wasn't wrong; they hadn't talked for a couple of months.

He sat on his bed, the tone ringing out until the call was answered. His brother cheerfully greeted him, "Hey Phil, what's up?"

The younger brother chuckled, "I'm good, you?"

The words sounded rehearsed and Martyn noticed it immediately, "Dan told you to call me, huh?" he sighed.

Phil laughed again, "Yeah! Sorry I haven't called for a while." he shrugged, looking at Dan leaning against the window with his arms crossed. He pursed his lips at Dan's expression.

There was silence before Martyn spoke up again, "How's Mum and Dad?"

"I'm not sure." Phil truthfully admitted, the façade slowly falling away.

"So things are no better?" the older brother was already shuffling around, the sounds of a bag being packed audible to Phil.

"Mum's stopped denying Dan exists...she just doesn't want me to be with him now." he groaned, "Martyn, what are you doing?"

"Coming down for the week."

"You shouldn't-"

"I feel like I should so I am because if I don't and something goes wrong I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life." Martyn snapped, his little brother not uttering a word in response to his outburst, "I'll be over in half an hour. See you in a bit, Phil."

"Okay. See you soon." Phil sighed, running the back of his hand against his forehead and looking tiredly up at his boyfriend. He shrugged, throwing his phone to the side asking, "Why the hell did you get me to call him?"

Dan scrunched his face in disbelief, walking closer to the hunched-over figure on their bed, "Phil? You still can't fucking see it, can you? I can't look after you like you need me to right now. You're in a God damn state and don't you know how _terrifying_ it is for me knowing you could march out of the front door and that's it? That there's nothing else I can do?! I'm losing you, Phil." Dan didn't bother to hide the tears welling against his eyelids, "You said you wanted me to stick around because you wouldn't be living without me. This isn't living; for either of us. How do I know I'm not causing this, Phil? How do I know this isn't the side effects of draining your energy for eleven years?" he sniffed, rubbing the tears away from his cheeks.

Phil stared blankly up at him, shaking his head as he looked away, "Then fuck off." he mumbled, his face heating up.

"What?" Dan heaved.

"If you think you're damaging me and that being with me is the cause of all this..." he began to reflect on his words, "fuck off." he repeated.

Dan groaned, taking a seat on the carpet he stood on, "Fucking hell, I'm sorry, Phil. I'm just tired and so fucking worried about you. And I said it, I'm powerless. I think the only thing more terrifying than how you are right now is how helpless I am to help you get better. Because I love you, Phil."

The human nodded, standing up as he placed his phone in his pocket, "I'm that much of a hassle, am I?" he sighed, opening their bedroom door and walking away, "Love doesn't fix everything, Dan. But of course you wouldn't fucking know because you haven't been in the real world."

The spirit was already on his feet, jogging after Phil who was pacing down the stairs, "Because I'm fucking _dead_." he spat.

"I know. You've told me that time and time again like it's a weight on you and you alone. Don't you know how it feels thinking I'd be trapped here forever? How I can't go on holidays with my boyfriend or even go to the fucking cinema?" he didn't stop walking until he reached the front door, standing with his palm on the handle, "And what's more, I'm now dying, too. What have we got? Ten years? Five? Two months?"

"Phil, stop-" Dan begged.

Phil's eyes glared upwards, everything in the room apart from Dan seeming to be brightening around him, "You love me, huh? How do I know I'm the only one? Sixty years before me. You say you used the neighbours' fireplace, how do I know you weren't jerking off with them before me, and maybe someone else before that?" the darker-haired boy shook his head, opening the front door.

"You know that's not true. Phil, stop-" Dan cried again.

"Do I?"

"Yes. You've known me for eleven fucking years I've told you every last thing about me!"

"Really? Then where are you buried, Dan? What were the names of your parents?"

"You've never asked."

Phil knew this was true and for a moment he hesitated, but then the door was closed behind him and he was walking down the street.

"Phil, stop." Dan called after him, running to his side, but after a few more strides he lost himself, unable to go farther, "Fuck you, Phil." he wept, falling against the path in defeat.

The spirit sat on the edge of the pavement until the sun fell to his eye-line. For the half-an-hour he sat there, people had brushed by him and cars drove by without giving a second glance to the invisible young man. There was an elderly person, entering his house across the street that caused Dan to chuckle, _"I'm older than you."_ he thought to himself, _"In years, at least."_

As the gentleman walked into his home, a car parked up only a few feet away, the relief flooding over Dan as Martyn stepped out the vehicle. He paced to the house before realising Phil's brother was about to step into the house, but it would be empty and the spirit would have no way of explaining to him what was wrong.

The spirit felt like screaming, so he did. He realised no one would hear him, even if they were stood by his side. He let his cry fall into the streets around him until his throat was sore and his chest ached. As his ears continued to pound he walked through the front door, letting Martyn call out into the seemingly empty house.

"Phil?" he called, "Dan? Uh..." he ran his fingertips through his hair, "Shit." Martyn cursed, realising the same thing the spirit did not moments ago, "Bloody Christ. Right," Dan could see the human's chest rising and falling as panic settled on the older brother, "Dan?!" he called again, "I can't _fucking_ see you or even know if you're even here. But if you are..." there was nothing that could be done, "I don't know if you're panicking or if it's as simple as Phil's gone to the shops. But I'm assuming it's not since that's not...him. Fucking hell it could be him for all I know, he's not been himself for months. Bloody hell, Mum." he sighed.

Martyn thought for a moment, "Right. Yeah, you can do the things with lights, can't you?"

"Yeah." Dan replied, knowing he wouldn't be heard.

"If I turn the lights on, wait until I say 'now', then turn them off or at least do something." Martyn looked around. The spirit wasn't sure if he was looking for him, or if he was looking for Phil still. He sighed, turning the light on, with Dan patiently waiting for his cue. Phil's older brother sighed before uttering, "Now."

Dan smiled as the light in the bulb very slowly faded out. He couldn't flicker it, but he could slowly take the energy that it had, dimming the light in the room slightly, _"If only I could survive off of bulbs."_ he thought to himself.

"Great!" Martyn cheered, before bringing himself back to the situation they were in, "Do you think you can do that again for 'yes' and just leave it blank for 'no'?"

Dan nodded, letting the energy drain from the light again, muttering, "Yeah." as he did so.

Martyn seemed astonished by his creativity, before pausing, "Right, and if I was to ask, is your name Tom?"

Dan left the light alone.

"Good. Holy fuck, thank you, Dan. Right, are you okay?" he began.

The light stayed off.

Martyn swallowed, leaning his back against the wall and sucking in a breath, "Could Phil be in danger?"

The light began to dim.

Phil's brother chuckled, "Sorry," he apologised, "but this is the type of bullshit you pull in the boys' bathrooms at school as a joke. I didn't think I'd be using it seriously."

Dan wanted to share with him the films he'd watched that pulled a similar stunt, but even if he was able to, right now probably wasn't the best moment.

"Did Phil leave the house?" Martyn continued.

The light dimmed for a moment.

"Shit. Do you know where he went?"

The light stayed on.

"Okay, did he go left or right down the street? Uh, so...did he go right?"

The light stayed on.

"So, he went left?"

The light flickered.

Martyn took his keys out of his pockets and opened the door, "I'll leave voicemails on the landline so I can update you. Stick by the phone, Dan. He'll be alright, I promise. Stay safe yourself." and the front door was closed again.


	25. 二十三 - 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓸𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓸

The first voicemail that came through was twenty long minutes later. Twenty minutes of Dan staring at the clock face's hands snarl at him with each stroke. Twenty minutes of rubbing his eyes raw on the edges of his sleeves.

His head was laying against the arm of the sofa, his legs flung over the other side as he watched the time on the far wall. The phone began to ring, Dan immediately sitting upright, placing his elbows on his crossed legs and he bent forwards as though the few inches would change the quality of sound.

He waited, letting the dial draw out until the operator announced a voicemail was to come through. The spirit listened to the tone ringing out, followed by the sound of Phil's very deflated brother, "Hey Dan, I'm just driving around. No signs of him yet, I hope you're alright, I'll update again soon."

The spirit pursed his lips, lashing his fists through the seat behind him, cursing, "Fuck." before throwing his arm through the sofa again, imagining he was making a loud bang against the fabric.

Dan sat up, crossing his legs into his body with his fingers dancing between each other, his mind desperately searching for any hints as to where Phil could be, but they'd spent every day with each other for the past eleven years; if he hadn't thought of it by now, he wasn't going to find anything later. Even if he did, he had no way of telling Martyn, so he wondered if it was better if he didn't think about it at all.

Five minutes later, the phone rang again until the tone dialled out and the voicemail followed, "I see him, Dan. He's just walking along the streets. I'll keep my phone between the seats so you can hear us." the sound of the car door opening and shutting ran through the landline, "Phil?" Dan heard Martyn call, "Come on, bro, I'll take you back home, we can talk there." the words were hard to make out at the end.

"Fuck off." an even more muffled Phil cursed. Daniel moved himself to the table where the phone was sat against, leaning his elbows either side of it as the next few minutes were inaudible.

The line fell into silence, until a car door slammed again. Dan listened patiently, the sound of the wind blowing against the car's windows echoing down the line. He heard harsh breathing that was irregular and heavy, before a sharp intake of breath. He furrowed his eyes, focusing on the sounds he was hearing, wondering if anyone was going to speak. The spirit dreaded over the thought, _"What if he doesn't come back at all?"_

"Come here," Martyn chuckled reassuringly, the sound of fabric shuffling as the muffled sobs continued, "You'll be alright." it couldn't have been anyone else but Phil the eldest boy was comforting, but the helpless teenager on the other end of the phone couldn't help but suppress his hope.

"Martyn?"

Dan gasped, swallowing the pain in his throat as he began to laugh to himself with relief. His hands wrapped around his torso as he fell into the back of the sofa, holding his knees to his chest as he let the last of his tears gather against his chin. It was undoubtedly Phil.

"Yeah?" Martyn replied.

"Can I be honest?"

"Of course."

"It's not going to be alright." Phil's voice was tangled with defeat and a part of the spirit believed he should have been waking away from the landline, possibly towards the drive where he could sit, waiting for his best friend to come back home. He could watch the spring buds dance in the winds on the trees, the blossom beginning to settle against the grass of their front garden. But, he didn't. The two of them barely got the chance to talk to anyone besides from each other; the exact reason Dan thought Phil should have this moment in peace. But for some reason he couldn't.

"What do you mean?" Philip's older brother asked him, ready to dismiss his younger sibling's concerns.

Dan heard Phil take a breath in, and he did, too, "A year ago Dan and I found out that for him to be alive, he's been draining my energy. Not the energy I take in from eating or whatever, but my actual core energy. I don't know what that is, and I've spent the last nine months trying to work it out. But we do know that for Dan to stick around, he's been surviving off of it." he paused, the spirit wondered if he was giving his brother a moment to absorb the information, "It's been killing me. I've been getting weaker my whole life and it's getting really fucking bad. I'm dying, Martyn, and I will be for as long as I want Dan to live with me; for me to live with Dan."

There was silence before Martyn spat, "Fucking hell." Dan heard a door open and close, unsure whose it belonged to.

"Martyn, wait-" Phil helplessly cried.

Phil sat there for a moment with his top teeth digging into his bottom lip, his eyes facing through the windscreen window as his chest burnt and hands froze against his thighs. He didn't see his brother until his car door reopened and Martyn stood by his side, his arms flinging around his younger brother, whose chin dug into his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Phil."

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Martyn?"

He hummed in response.

"I don't know what to do."

"Of course you don't. You've known Dan for, what...eleven years? I doubt you hardly remember a life before him. And now, what? You've got to die to be with him or let him die alone?"

Phil sniffled, nodding his head as his brother pulled away and walked back around to the driver's seat. He lifted his fringe behind his ear and turned to Martyn, "I told him..." he fought his thumbs between his knees, letting them fight against each other, "I told him I wouldn't let him die alone."

"I don't doubt that, Phil." his brother's voice was ridden with sympathy and understanding, completely naïve to his younger brother's thoughts.

"I don't think I can do it."

"Do what?"

"Let myself die. If I tell him to stop taking my energy, he'll be gone in a week. Otherwise, we'll have about thirty years together. But...he's already died once, hasn't he?"

The spirit sat on the other end of the line with his arms shaking against his lap and his lip quivering in shock. His heart felt as though it was clawing against his chest and his lungs couldn't accustom to it. He sucked in a breath, his features pulling against his face as he glared at the answerphone, trying to understand whether or not his boyfriend would actually let him die. For the first time in his life, he wondered if he'd be conscious in a month's time.

"Martyn, I'd be trading seventy or so years for less than forty. It doesn't seem like a fair trade."

"How do you know you've only got that much left?"

"PJ and I researched into it. He stopped coming around a while after we calculated it. I don't know if he felt guilty or what."

Daniel thought maybe even PJ had lied to him during the last time they spoke.

"It's the way spirits use energy. Firstly, they use more than humans because it's their entire form. Secondly, it gets wasted during transfer. Thirdly, he's not just any spirit. Most fade in and out, they're hazier than him, and they're less...alive than he seems to be. Martyn, he's the only spirit I've ever seen or heard of that looks and behaves like a human. If you could see him, you wouldn't know the difference."

"So, there's different types of spirits?"

"I don't know."

Martyn sighed, turning to his younger brother again, "Can you recover the energy you lose? How far is it until you can't go back?"

"I get these moments where I feel like I'm being pulled out of my body. It's like my consciousness falls behind or lags slightly, and for a split moment, I see behind myself or see my body move when I'm not in it. It makes me think I don't have long to decide. Dan knows I've been feeling weak and that I'm getting nauseous, but he doesn't know _that_. He also doesn't know that in general, I feel as though I'm disconnecting from my body like it's a different form entirely. That's why I'm getting scared, Martyn. I'm feeling myself die; it's worse than just suddenly dying."

"So, what are you going to do, Phil?"

"I don't know. I honestly don't know. I'm so bloody anxious about it constantly. Dan said it himself earlier: this isn't living; for either of us. He doesn't want to stick around if I'm not here to live with."

"How do you know what you're feeling isn't just anxiety? What if you're overthinking this and wasting all the time you _could_ be using with Dan to worry about _not_ spending time with him? Even so, you're going to have to decide quickly, Phil: are you going to get your head out of your ass and live the next handful of years like you've thrived in the last eleven, or learn to move on when he goes?"

Phil swallowed harshly, imagining a world without Dan, "What would you do?"

"I've never loved someone like you love Dan. It's pointless me trying to answer that. But, Phil? You don't have to travel the world to have lived a life, or checked off a thousand 'life experiences' and worked your way through a list. You've lived more of a life than most eighty-year-olds can say they have. Sometimes lying in the garden pointing at the stars is all the life experience you need."

"I don't know what I'd do without him."

"I know you don't; neither do I."


	26. 二十四 - 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽

"Am I alright to start driving?" Martyn asked his recovering brother, whose eyes were swollen and cheeks tinted red. Phil nodded, taking in slow breaths and letting the nip of the spring breeze set against his nose as he was driven back to his home.

He sighed when they pulled onto the curve outside their house, biting his cheeks when he confirmed to himself that his spirit wasn't waiting for him on the doorstep. He looked at Martyn who was also facing the front door, but with a much more concerned expression. He brushed it off, opening the car door and closing it as he walked away from the car.

Martyn shot his eyes away from the house, scrambling to get his phone from the drink compartment between the two front seats. He hung up the line, fumbling his phone between his fingers as his chest hastily rose and fell. He knew he'd fucked up. His eyes darted to where Phil was opening the front door, his lips pursing as he made his way towards his younger brother.

"Dan?" Phil mumbled aloud, peering his head around the doorway of the living room. The brown-haired boy sat with his legs crossed, back facing the ceased landline phone. Phil sat beside him, hanging his head between his shoulders and looking pitifully down, not risking peering upwards at the spirit, "I'm sorry," he breathed, "I didn't mean the stuff I said before I left, I-"

"You did."

"What? Dan, I didn't. I'm sorry."

"Bullshit." the spirit whispered, looking to his side where his other half remained curled into himself. The human didn't argue back. Dan sighed, "I'll leave, if that's what you want. You're right: I'm dead, what difference does it make? I'll buggar off and you can find yourself a boyfriend you can actually marry and travel the world with." he should have been mad, but he didn't sound it. He sounded tired and lost, and the words that tumbled from his lips were uttered as truths, not some sporadic release of frustration. Phil didn't reply, so Dan sighed, looking away, "I know that's what you want."

"Dan?" he finally spoke up, "It's not."

"Bullshit-"

"Let me fucking speak." Phil pressed, "I've thought it, sure, but for fuck's sake I've thought about going to the moon and being a fucking superstar."

"You didn't believe those could be-"

" _Shut up,_ please! I never seriously thought you leaving could be a reality!" he was facing Dan with his hands waving in front of his body as he explained himself, "Me thinking about going to the moon was as likely as me asking you to leave. I'm just scared, Dan. I might live half as long as I should, but that's okay. Plenty of people don't live beyond eighty. I'm not taking this away from you; I'm not taking it away from us."

Dan looked up, his eyes bristled with water as his lips fell slightly parted. He looked ghostly and for the first time in months, Phil could see the damage he'd been doing with his constant fear of losing him. He realised that Dan had truly lost him; maybe parting now would feel no different for the younger boy. But if Phil could see what nine months of loss did to one of them, he didn't want to imagine what he'd be like if he knew he could never see his best friend again.

He sucked in a breath through his dried lips, "I have you, and you have me. For as long as we stay like this, we'll be alright. I'll always be okay if I have you."

"Then where have you been the last year?" Dan quivered.

"I've been a total idiot because I was living in a world where I thought I might be without you. But I don't have to be...I'm not _going_ to be."

"Promise?" the spirit chuckled, letting his boyfriend shuffle closer to him.

"Of course. I promise." he let go of a breath he felt like he'd been holding for months and in the moment, he felt as though everything was going to be fine. It would take time, but for as long as he had Dan, he knew the world couldn't be all that bad.

The spirit rested his head against his human's shoulder, letting the flutters of energy in his hair vibrate with their touch. They stayed there until the sun was wholly tucked behind the horizon, letting the show of lights reflect down from the sky.

"What's the plan, Phil? Where do we go from here? You need an education so you can get a job. I...just need to sit here." Dan lamely sighed.

"I'll talk to Martyn, I'm sure he's got some ideas. I was thinking of going into literature, maybe write about what I know and our experiences. You could even write, Dan. Just because I have to type, doesn't mean you can't."

"Seriously?" Dan grinned, "But will you go to university?"

"I'll figure it out. But Dan?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm not leaving you again."

The spirit nodded, letting silence separate them for a moment before he whispered, "Thank you."

There was a tap on the doorway causing the two young adults to turn around, seeing a cautious Martyn stand lopsidedly against the frame, "Mind if I get some food? I've been waiting half an hour."

They chuckled between themselves, "Sure." Phil agreed, "Hey, Martyn?"

"Yeah?" his older brother replied, already chewing on a slice of bread while he rummaged the rest of the cupboards.

"How would I go to university and still live here?"

Martyn turned around, pointing the half-eaten slice of bread towards him, "Have you looked into online uni? One of my friends did that and it worked really well."

Phil nodded, turning towards Dan who shrugged at him, "I'll look into it, thanks."

"Phil? Where's the food?" his brother complained, taking another slice of bread.

"We should have some chicken nuggets leftover in the fridge but apart from that...Mum and Dad were supposed to have gone shopping today."

"Where the hell are they now, then?"

Phil shrugged, "I don't usually ask."

"I'll call Dad." Martyn groaned, walking out of the room.

Dan turned to his friend, "Can you do university online?"

"Sure." Phil nodded, resting back against the sofa and reaching for the TV remote.

"So, you can stay here?"

"I wasn't going anywhere else." The headlights from Nigel's car shone briefly through the window as they turned into the drive, "Want to go upstairs?" Phil asked.

"I'd like that." Dan smiled back.


	27. 二十五 - 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓟𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱

Phil sat with Dan on the old, wooden bench, looking out into the back of their garden. The seating was now leaning against the brick walls of their home, the nails unscrewing over the years and the wood wearing down. Nobody sat on it but them, and even so, Dan's weight didn't count.

It was seven in the evening on an August day, the sun still brightly illuminating the sky ahead of them, the light growing fiercer as it sank towards the horizon of trees. The nineteen-year-olds sat together with their fingers placed through the other's, occasionally wiggling to send vibrations of energy through them. They'd found their quirks like these over the years, finding ways to embrace their special differences rather than curse them. There were, of course, parts of it they hated, but this night wasn't the one they were going to address those.

Phil had finished his first year with the Open University and was on his way for an impressive grade, with a co-written book underway with Dan. It was everything their website contained, plus everything they hadn't yet said. Some details would remain unspoken, but as their names became known across the globe, they felt required to share more. It wasn't just about them, it was about helping others, too. They were proud of their almost-finished creation.

"Do you think anyone will want to publish it?" Dan asked Phil.

"I think so," Phil chuckled, "Peej says he knows some people to do it."

"Right." Dan nodded, crossing his legs on the bench and lifting his chin towards Phil. He opened his lips to speak, but his mouth was met with his best friend's, a chuckle releasing from their throats. Dan pulled away, "I was going to say before I was rudely interrupted, that maybe we should do a chapter on...you know, us?"

"Us?" Phil furrowed his eyebrows, his lip curling up in curiosity.

"We've mentioned it in the book at how we're together and the science behind it. That, and our opinions of...well, _experiences_ of being together and how we've made it work. But, what if we talk about how it _actually_ works? How it's actually affected us? We can say how it feels to kiss, not how it feels to simply touch or high-five." he seemed deflated, looking past Phil towards the garden wall.

"Are you sure?" the black-haired boy leant forwards, searching Daniel's eyes. He nodded, but there was something more, "What is it?" Phil asked.

The spirit took a breath in, standing up and brushing his palm through Phil's shoulder, ushering him to stand. The human followed, lifting himself upright and following Phil to the off-centre of their garden. It was a large space, so it took him a moment to realise why his boyfriend pulled him here in particular.

Daniel sat down, tapping the grass beside him and staring at the patch of dirt, so Phil sat with him as he began to calmly talk, "A year ago you said you didn't even know where I was buried."

Phil suddenly felt the urgency to stand, hurrying away from his recognition. But, he didn't. He swallowed, looking at the ground around him and gradually feeling a sense of peace fall over him.

"Eight feet down." Dan smiled, looking up at his love, "A few broken bones, but apart from that my skeleton will be pretty well intact." he shrugged.

It broke Phil's heart when he remembered it wouldn't be the nineteen-year-old's skeleton curled under the rubble of the old well, but instead the remains of the seven-year-old he met twelve years ago in this very spot, a snail curled against his palm and an innocent grin curled against his cheeks.

Phil smiled the same smile, feeling like that child all over again, and Dan's grin mimicked his, "Dan?" he asked, looking towards their bedroom window.

"Yeah?"

"What happened with your case, do you know?"

"My case? I guess I hadn't thought about it. I don't really remember much about dying anymore."

"What do you mean?" Phil asked, his gaze moving back to the boy.

"Over the years it's just faded away. I guess I didn't need to remember it, it didn't matter after I found you." he shrugged.

"Don't you wonder if your uncle was caught? If your other family members knew you'd died?"

"Well, now I do." Dan giggled. Phil stood up, ushering his best friend to follow him back into the house, picking up the laptop from the kitchen counter and curling together on the sofa, "What are you doing?" the spirit asked.

"Googling you." the opening pages were mostly modern, although he was mostly known as 'Spirit Dan' or 'Dan and Phil', so the pages weren't too plentiful. Even so, Phil added the date of Dan's death to his name and re-searched it, something appearing not too far down, "The death of seven-year-old Daniel Howell."

Phil scanned Dan's face, seeing curiosity strike through his expression. He smiled at him, clicking the link and entering an online archive, his lips tracing the written words, "Daniel James Howell-"

"I have a middle name?" he chuckled, relaxing against the sofa.

"Born 1920 to Margaret and Peter Howell, went missing in the late hours of Saturday evening, a fortnight ago, while David Howell, his uncle, was caring for him. David's remorseful account of the experience states the young boy was playing in the front garden, where he was suddenly drawn out of the sight of the window. Our assumptions lie with young Daniel being abducted. His parents are holding a memorial service at St Peter's Church next Sunday. All welcome."

"That's it?" Dan asked, "Well fuck them." he laughed, shaking his head.

"Shit." Phil cursed, "I'm sorry-"

"No!" Dan dismissed, "Not at all. I'm glad I know, honestly."

"I feel bad for your parents."

"I do, too."

"Dan?" Phil asked, closing his laptop.

"Yeah?"

"Did you have any siblings?"

"A younger brother. He was just born. Adrian." Dan shrugged, but Phil's eyes widened and he realised what this could mean himself.

"So...Adrian Howell?"

"Yeah...uh..."

Phil was already opening his laptop and searching up the name, "How old would he be now?"

"Uh...1927, so...eighty-one?"

A cackle was released from Phil's lips, "You're eighty-eight, then?!"

"Fuck off!" Dan waved his arm through Phil's skull.

"Adrian Howell, retired teacher..." he was scanning the town's archives, "Married to Elizabeth Gardner... _supposedly_ would still be part of the community hub in the centre."

"My brother's alive?" Dan chuckled, running his hand over the back of his neck, "He wouldn't even know me. He might not know I ever existed."

"Want to find out?"


	28. 二十六 - 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻

Phil Lester opened the double glass doors of the community centre and walked towards the receptionist, propped behind an oak wood desk, positioned inside the wall. She stood on the other side of it, leaning against it and smiling at the young adult, "Good-morning." she stood up straight, looking Phil up and down as he realised she looked about his age. Probably a volunteer, "How can I help?" she asked.

"Hi," Phil anxiously began, running his palm over his forearm, "I've been told someone called Adrian Howell comes here regularly? He's about eighty years old."

She furrowed her eyebrows and chuckled, "Okay. Can I ask why you're looking for him?" she chuckled, opening a drawer.

"Uh...it's complicated. Do you know him?"

"Yeah, he runs one of the groups here. Card games, actually. Are you related at all?" she was smiling again, holding the leaflet between her fingertips as she scribbled across it on the desk with a pen.

Phil shrugged, "I guess you could say that." he'd be his brother-in-law, in his mind, if it was legal.

"Right. Here's the leaflet for the club, it's on weekly, you should find him there." she slid it towards Phil with the pen still balanced between her fingers, "I'm Louise, by the way."

He noticed the phone number scribbled against the back of the flier, awkwardly looking up with a chuckle against his tongue, "I'm gay, sorry."

Louise sighed, placing the pen to the side and shrugging, "Worth a shot."

"Thanks for the help, Louise."

"No worries." she looked to the side and gasped slightly, "Hold on! What's your name? I'm supposed to keep a register of who comes and goes."

"Phil Lester." he replied, turning away to walk out.

There was a pause before she called out again, "Wait...Phil Lester? I've heard your name before."

"I went to the local secondary school?"

"No, not that. You run a blog, don't you? Is it Phil as in Dan and Phil? My Spirit Guide?"

The boy chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief, "Yeah...yeah, I am."

"Oh my god, that's so cool. You're like famous. Is Dan...here?"

He was beginning to doubt whether she saw spirits too, "No, no he's not." he didn't dare say spirits couldn't travel far from their place of death in fear of his mother finding out, "Do you see them?"

"No, but my younger sister does." she pursed her lips and he could see pain forming against her features.

"It gets better." Phil smiled. Louise nodded solemnly.

"Well, if you ever want to run anything here, you've got my number." she giggled, finally writing his name on the register.

"Thanks again, Louise."

"One last thing, Phil?" she called out for the third time. He turned back, inquisitively staring at her. She questioned again, "Why are you looking for Adrian Howell?"

He could tell she knew, but he confirmed her suspicions, "I'm in love with his brother." he smiled, "And I think I've found him."

***

The next Wednesday Phil walked to the community centre, greeting Louise briefly at the desk as she talked to another volunteer. He walked through the halls, reaching a room at the end with a simple poster advertising it was card-games night. He smiled, peering through the doorway and stepping into the room.

He felt slightly awkward at first. There were three elderly gentlemen sat at a table, one of them dealing their first hand of the night. He was five minutes early, so wondered if this was the first of the crowd. One of the men grinned, speaking up, "Hello, there!" he chuckled, "How can we help?"

Phil nervously laughed, tightening his shoulders into his body, "I'm looking for Adrian Howell, do any of you...?" he looked between the three of them.

"That's me." the person who greeted him confirmed. His features were long worn-down and the curves of his smile were wrinkled with age, but it was the familiarity of the eyes that unsettled Phil. Adrian stood up, passing the deck to the person on his left and tucking his chair under as he spoke, "How can I help?"

"Can I...uh, chat with you for a moment?" Phil asked, pointing to some chairs in the corner.

Adrian furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded, leading the young boy to the table neatly tucked away. The two of them sat opposite each other, Phil placing his elbows on the plastic table as he stared towards his fists, "This is going to be really strange." Phil admitted.

"I've lived for eighty years, not much surprises me anymore." he giggled.

"I suppose not," Phil grinned back, "But this might be up there. Do you know the name Daniel Howell?"

Phil watched Adrian's throat swell briefly as the old man nodded, leaning back on the chair, "I do." he confirmed, "My older brother by six and a half years. I was one when he went missing. But, I'm sure you know that if you're approaching me about him."

Phil nodded, "What else do you know?" he was trying to restrain his excitement for the priority of respect.

"My uncle was babysitting at the time. My parents left me and him in the house while they went to town. He played out in the front garden and the next thing my uncle knew, he was gone. My parents asked him over to demolish the well, they think he left Daniel out the front longer than he would admit. A body was never found, he might be still alive for all I know, but legally, he's dead." there was emotion behind the words, but little pain. Phil figured that even though Adrian cared for his older brother, he mourned for his parents' sake rather than his own, he never knew Dan after all.

Phil gave him a small smile, nodding as he became aware of more people entering the room. He sat forwards, sitting on the edge of his seat as his chest rose and fell, "Adrian, do you believe in spirits?"

The man thought for a while, running his aged fingers along his stubbly chin. He nodded, shrugging, "I guess you have to with the science coming forwards." his eyes slowly peered up towards Phil as his expression began to crawl away, "What are you trying to pull?"

"Nothing!" Phil defended, worrying he'd made a mistake coming here, "It's just...I do. I mean, I see them. I'm...friends with your brother."

Adrian's head rose and fell as he glanced towards the far window, "Is he doing well?"

"He is." Phil nodded, sensing a closedness coming from the elderly man, "I don't want to take up your time any more, but I have a website. Well, Dan and I have a website. This is the link, if you want it." he wrote it on the flier Louise had given him earlier in the week, sliding it towards Adrian, "Dan would appreciate it."

The younger Howell brother nodded, fumbling with the paper in his hands, "What's your name?"

"Phil Lester." he confidently responded.

"Phil...how did my brother die?"

"It was your uncle. He pushed him down the well and buried his body there." Phil slowly admitted.

Adrian hummed, sighing, "I thought that might have been the case. Thank you, Phil."

"Thank _you._ " Phil returned, "You have my details if you want to talk again." he stood up, tucking his chair under the small tablet and smiling towards Adrian, who remained seated against the chair. He held up the flier to confirm the statement to Phil, waving his other palm to bid the young man farewell.

Dan and Phil didn't hear from Adrian Howell again, but the elderly man went home that night feeling the cease to a restlessness he'd carried with him his entire life. He didn't mind if Phil lied his way through the whole meeting, because he believed him, and that was enough to bring him peace.


	29. 二十七 - 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱

It was October of 2008, when Phil lied coddled in his duvet on the sofa, with his boyfriend beside him and a drawn-out look of concern against his features. The spirit saw through the masks his best friend put up, no matter how many were worn: it was the curse of knowing each other since they were seven. They spotted the behaviour patterns of the other, before they realised themselves.

Dan shuffled closer, his body moving through the mound of material until his eyes were only inches away from Phil's. He'd noticed the diminishing effort put into his daily tasks and the slow decreases to generic health activities such as showering and eating. The spirit couldn't tell if it was physical sickness or the weight of an unknown future, "Talk to me." Dan pushed, nudging his nose against Phil's.

The older boy chuckled, shaking his head, "I'm fine."

Dan sighed, "What is it?"

Phil let out a breath laugh again, "I'm just...trying to make sure everything works out. The book, as well, getting that published is weighing down on me a bit."

"Well, we have three publishers who want it..."

"I know, I know...It's just another thing. I'm really happy with it, I'm so proud of us."

"It's just yet another thing." Dan repeated.

Phil nodded, "And then there's Mum asking what I'm doing in terms of everything else. You know she doesn't even know we're publishing?" he snickered.

Dan swallowed, lifting his legs onto the sofa so his head was on Phil's lap, "Do you think both our names will be on the cover?" he twisted his fingers above his nose.

"I want them to be, I'll message the publishers and if there's one that will, I guess we've made our choice." he shrugged, smiling as he brought his lips to Dan's.

They pulled away after a moment, the spirit looking feebly up at the black-haired boy, as he whispered, "I'm terrified."

"Me, too." Phil croaked.

"I want to know we're safe, but these next five years feel so..."

"Unsteady?"

"Yeah."

"We'll work it out, Dan." Phil reassured him, although he had his own doubts fogging his mind.

"And Martyn's still helping us with sponsors and stuff..."

"So I'm saving money up in case anything goes wrong." Phil sighed, running his hand across Dan's hair, "You will be alright."

The spirit scrunched his nose, lowering his hands to his sides and beaming his eyes into Phil's pits of blue, "But you won't be?"

"Why not?" Phil asked, his speech absent of expression.

"No, I'm not saying you won't be. You said it as though _you_ wouldn't be." Dan corrected. Phil shrugged, so the brown-haired boy sat up, turning back towards the other boy, "You will be." he whispered, "Please. We can't do this again."

"We're not doing it again-"

"We _are_!" Dan screeched, "You just don't see it. You start doubting, you then wish you weren't a burden on me and then you lash out on us. Phil, last year you walked out that door and I was more hopeless than I would've been dead." he wept, his voice rising in pitch with each word.

"What do you want me to say?" Phil chanted, "That I'm okay? That I don't have a worry in the world and I have everything under control? I want to say that, Dan, I really do. But I don't want to lie to you."

The spirit nodded, turning away and standing up, letting the light from the windows guide his way out of the room as he left to go upstairs. Dan wasn't annoyed or frustrated, he was hopeless. He felt completely powerless, because he was. The only thing more painful than watching Phil spiral each day was knowing the only thing he could do to help him was to talk to him. It was something, but it wasn't escaping to the beach or holding him in his arms as he wept. Some things couldn't be replaced.

He feared one day he'd find Phil strawn across the bathroom floor, and the only thing he could do to help was cry and stroke his fringe. He doesn't even know if he could get help from his parents, even if they were only in the room next door.

That's what he meant when he felt hopeless, because he well and truly was. No amount of lying could cover that up.

Phil stayed curled on the sofa, the TV running in the background as Katherine's keys unlocked the front door. She entered, placing her handbag on the kitchen side and furrowing her ageing features towards Phil, "Everything alright?" she asked her sickly-looking son.

"Yeah." he nodded, lying to his mother.

"Okay, mind helping me carry through a box? I've got a new cabinet for the bathroom that your dad's going to put up later." she smiled, walking towards the doorway again.

"Sure." Phil nodded, discarding his sheets and treading his way to the boot of the car. He heaved it out of the vehicle, lifting it across his torso and stepping backwards so his mum could close the door and lock it. He bounced it, trying to pull it into a more comfortable position, but the weight of it kept pulling it down, "I've got it." he lied again.

Katherine walked ahead of him, closing the front door behind him and telling him to place it by the bottom of the stairs. He did so, his head going light from when he lent down to let the heavy box fall against the carpet, and when he stood up the hallway spun around him.

"Phil, you really don't look great," Katherine sighed, "You need to try and eat more, I've not seen you properly in the kitchen for a while now, and sleep...are you getting enough?" she rambled, placing the back of her palm against his paling forehead.

"Yeah, I'm fine-" but his words were pulled out of his throat and the pressure of his brain pushed against the sides of his head until it dragged him to the floor.

"Phil-!" Katherine called out as he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, gently lying him down. He pulled his elbows over his eyes, groaning away from the light. She sighed, tucking a coat under his knees to get the blood back to his head as she effortlessly rambled, "I'm done with this, Phil. You said Dan's helping you and that you love each other, but you're just killing each other at this point! It's not healthy. It's not that he's a spirit and you're a human, not anymore. If he was a human I'd be saying the same bloody thing. You two being together isn't healthy." she huffed, leaving him with tears in his eyes on the floor of the corridor to fill him a glass of water. She soon passed it to him, helping him sit up and take a sip of it, "How are you feeling now?"

"Shit." he truthfully cursed, looking away from her judgemental stare.

"What are we going to do about this, Phil?"

"I don't bloody know, Mum!" he spat, darting his eyes towards her, "If I knew, I'd fucking do it. I love him, I really do, and he loves me. But knowing we're trapped here for the rest of our bloody lives with nowhere else to go and no stability, it's tiring! I want to get out this house and move somewhere else with him but it's not _bloody possible_." he downed the last of the water and dumped the cup to the side, his chest rising and falling.

"You've fucked up." he heard a Dan quietly whisper from the bannister of the stairs. Phil twisted his eyebrows at his boyfriend, turning back to Katherine who had a confused glance above her cheeks.

"Of course you can go elsewhere, Phil. I'll help you, if you want. You're not trapped here."

He groaned, "I am because Dan can't fucking move from..." he looked back at his best friend whose features were crinkled in pain and water filling the corners of his eyes, "his place of death..." he regretfully finished.

"Dan can't move with you?" Katherine confirmed. Phil shook his head, the truth spilling at last.


	30. 二十八 - 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓮𝓽

"You fucking idiot."

"I know." Phil brokenly stammered.

"What were you fucking thinking?"

"I was just rambling and getting frustrated, and I'd fainted-"

"And you've fucked everything up! Who says she won't say she's putting this house up on the market? Then what?"

"Then I guess we'll sell and you'll be dead in a week!" Phil snapped, throwing a plush in the direction of the spirit.

Daniel gasped, his eyes puffy from crying and throat raw from hurt. He shook his head, "Fuck you." he whimpered, but there was almost a loving laugh to the sound, the contrasting tone to the statement putting Phil in unease. The spirit sighed, taking a seat next to his boyfriend and curling into his body, "I don't care, Phil." he truthfully muttered, "I just don't care anymore. I'm empty, I'm lost. I can't _not_ love you, no matter what you say, so there's no point being a twat and arguing."

Phil giggled, shaking his head, his hands still shaking and his heart's pumps still visible on the fabric over his chest, "I'm sorry."

Dan looked up, "Me, too." a part of him wanted his hands against Phil's shoulders, moving his palms over his boyfriend's body until they were bare in each other's arms. He wanted him inside of him, the words, not syllables to mutter from a tongue, but instead gestures of love that they still hadn't accepted they could never have.

Phil saw the poisonous lust in the spirit's eye, so he turned away. This wasn't how he wanted Dan, even if he had to remind himself of that. But they wanted control. There was nothing else in the world these two boys had right now apart from a book on the line to being published in five months, and their untouchable bodies.

It was almost winter solstice. It would be pointless to try and touch beyond the metaphorical gestures of romance, yet they both wanted something more because they had nothing else. Neither of them could decide if they really wanted it, but when Phil leant in and whispered, "Do you want to go into the garden?" with the poison in the ocean of his eye and at the expense of his own dignity, Dan shuffled closer, his neck besides Phil's lips as he imagined would it would feel like to have his breath there, like he could feel during the summer seasons, or to have his lips moving against the delicate skin until his teeth moved in and bruised him. He remembered that he was ticklish when he was alive.

Dan nodded, running after the human boy that had his shirt slung over the bannister of the stairs before they'd taken a step into the open air. Phil felt his toes nestle into the damp ground, his back falling against the peeling wooden bench as he unslung the belt from around his waist. He could battle with his flies while the pantless figure of Dan straddled himself over his lover's waist, throwing his own top to the side while he sat exposed above the human.

"Keep them on," Dan whispered, holding his palms where Phil's were contemplating stripping his jeans from his legs, "I don't want to get you into too much trouble."

"You already have." Phil whispered, "What's a bit more to the reputation?" he smirked, their noses brushing through one another's as they begged to taste the other's breath.

"Don't." Dan warned, playfully shaking his head as his left fist guided itself towards his lower half. Phil's instinctively fell down; they'd done this before, they had a routine, but the spirit shook his head, his fringe falling over his eye, "Look at me." he demanded, his neck exposed to the other boy.

Phil's bottom lip peeled between his teeth as their pupils met halfway. Phil had chosen Dan's left eye, and Dan chose Phil's right. The stars of the horizon reflected into the black hole in the blue of the human's eye, and the same lights bounced back into the spirit's. They couldn't share a taste, but they could share the glimmers of the night's lamps.

Their hands rose and fell against their lengths, their breathing audible in each other's ears. They were so close together, Dan's right fist was even placed through Phil's shoulder so he could grab where the back of the bench perched against the wall. They could barely be closer, yet as the release of their orgasms rippled across their delicate forms, they couldn't have felt further apart.

"Why do we feel so...far?"

Their heads burrowed into the other's neck and Phil tucked himself back behind the crotch of his jeans, his palm falling to where his fingers should have been dancing along Dan's spine. They were so unstable, so afraid, they were nineteen-year-olds facing problems the moon hadn't seen before, and it sympathised for them as it shone a full-beam back onto the frosted grass around them. They were both so, so cold, and Dan couldn't feel temperature.

"You'll get ill." the spirit whispered into Phil's collarbone.

"I am ill." the human admitted.

"I know," Dan shakily responded, "I'm sorry." he wept.

"I'll get better soon." Phil smiled, pushing his eyes back into Dan's.

"And then we can go to the beach together." Dan suggested.

Phil nodded, "Yeah, and we'll do this again there," he laughed, "We'll have to make sure we go at night."

"Of course, it's prettier at night."

"It's suits your eyes: the stars."

"Your eyes suit the stars." Dan kindly muttered.

"And we'll get some ice cream."

"You love chocolate ice cream, but I like vanilla. I think we should eat them while we dig our toes in the ocean's sand."

Phil hummed, "And then we can go back to our bedroom."

"And do it all again?"

Phil nodded, "Because, Dan?"

"Nothing will stop us, Phil." Daniel finished, his teeth visible in the widest grin he'd had for a year. They were happy.

***

Katherine sat on her bed with her phone to her ear and papers in her hands. Nigel stiffly sat beside her, his fingernails raw and lips dry. He had no say in this, "We'll find somewhere soon, somewhere nearby, Nigel." Katherine remained him.

"I know, it's just...this has been our home."

"And it's been destroying this family ever since we got here. This is our chance, Nigel. It might already be too late to save him but if there's even a slither of hope, I'm taking it."

"What if we're wrong?" he pushed.

She rolled her eyes, "If we were wrong, he wouldn't be getting more unwell by the day. I told you that he fainted this morning? He only had to carry the cabinet in and place it by the stairs. He's sickly and it's all in his mind."

Nigel nodded, standing up and folding the socks in his underwear drawer. His wife used to do it for him, but he barely remembers those days. He used to bring her up a coffee every morning, but she'd long forgotten that.

Within half an hour, Phil's childhood home was back on the market, and Dan sat straddled across his lap in the freezing bite of the night. They were completely vulnerable, and they both knew it, but they smiled until their cheeks ached and their eyes could cry no more.


	31. 二十九 - 𝓡𝓪𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓜𝓮 𝓤𝓹

Katherine sat at the foot of Phil's bed, her hand against his ankle as he suspiciously eyed her. Dan, unbeknownst to her, was sat by her son, curled against his side with his soft lips centimetres away from his jaw. The spirit knew something was wrong.

She smiled, running her hand in circles, "I talked to your dad about this, and we came to a decision that we're selling the house-" she put her hand up to hush any questions, "I know, you won't want to, but I'm doing what's best for you Phil, I really am."

"Fuck her." Dan spat, burrowing into his boyfriend, "Please don't go." he knew it was pointless.

Phil shook his head, "I won't go."

"You have to, you can't afford this house." Katherine pointed out, "Even so, Phil, we wouldn't accept the offer from you."

Phil laughed, "I'll find a way," he felt confused, his hands shaking but his mind was not sure why. Everything sorted itself out in the end, this would be no different. It had to go alright, otherwise Daniel would disappear.

She shuffled closer to Phil, pitifully smiling, "You'll be well again, Phil. We'll get there, together."

Katherine still wasn't sure whether she believed the spirit was real or not. She wanted to, and it was becoming more likely that they do exist, but a part of her still told her it was all in her son's head. This would let her know; he told her Dan can't come. If he does, then he needs psychotic help; it was a simple decision in her mind. If Daniel didn't come, then Phil was able to recover without the pressure of being with the spirit. She knew it was unfair, but she truly believed it was for the best. To her, she'd watched herself lose her son over the last decade, no matter what she did. She had to try this, even if it didn't work.

"Mum, you can't make me go."

"Phil, I don't want to-"

"You _can't!_ " he had tears in his eyes and he was grabbing at the fabric where Dan's hand should have been, "Mum, what the hell are you thinking?!"

"Phil. It's on the market already-"

" _What?!_ " he screamed. He felt a claw at his chest, as though some supernatural creature had ripped itself in and was twisting at his insides. It made him pale, the colour from his face flooding away and his arms shaking by his sides. His head spun and his gut suddenly pressed upwards. He immediately stood up, grabbing the doorway and throwing himself into the bathroom, hunched over the toilet bowl as he threw up into it.

Dan glared at Katherine as he heard Phil hurl in the room opposite. He didn't care she couldn't see him as his eyes stayed trained on her until he dispersed through the wall and into the bathroom across the hall. He sat by Phil's side, his hand rubbing circles on his neck and even though his boyfriend couldn't feel him, he knew he was there.

The older boy eventually looked up, his eyes watery and his cheeks reddened. They were the only thing bright about his face. But then thoughts of the spirit fading fed back into his mind and he was grasping at the toilet seat once more.

It felt to Dan as though they were there all night, with intervals of peace before the black-haired boy was hurling up his insides once again. Dan wasn't sure if Phil stopped because he calmed down, or because there was nothing left to throw up. They sat on the floor, their backs against the opposite walls and their knees half knelt towards their chests so the tips of their feet stood only slightly apart. Dan's elbows were slung over his lap, whereas Phil's remained tucked around his gut while his throat burned.

They couldn't speak. Phil's heart drummed too loud and Dan couldn't find the words to say. There was a shallow knock on the door, followed by Kath standing in the doorway with a pitiful smile on her face, but her son snarled and Dan's terror burnt the light out of the bulb above them, a single tick informing them the ignition had died out. She got the message and left.

The two boys' heads remained facing the empty doorway, their chests rising and falling with each heavy, hastened breath and their teeth chewing at their lips, "I've got to be able to do something..." Phil finally spoke, his hands running over his sweating eyebrows. He threw his head against the wall behind him, Dan wincing at the slam.

"Don't do that." the spirit warned, drifting to Phil's side to take a look at the site of collision.

They were both clueless as to what to do, until Phil's thoughts raced to compile an idea. He threw himself to his heels, running down the stairs and shouting into the front room, "Where's a shovel?!" he demanded, looking at his mum sat with a coffee in her palms.

"I don't know-"

"Where's the fucking shovel?" he repeated, throwing open the closet door and rummaging inside. He found something, it was old and partially rusted, and the end was almost blunt, but he shrugged, knowing it would have to do. He raced into the garden under the purple sky of the morning. The clouds reflected the indigo colours across the expanse down to the horizon. Phil slammed the tool into the dirt, tearing at the frosted grass and ripping up the century-old soil.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Katherine screamed, wrapping a coat around her as she left the warmth of her house.

Phil didn't stop, his lungs panting as he sputtered out, "Fucking proving it to you. Do you even believe Dan exists? After twelve years, do you believe?"

"Phil-" she desperately began.

"DO YOU?!" he cried out, his voice hanging from his swollen neck.

"I don't know!" she gasped, her own chest pulling up a cry. She held her icy fingernails up to her eyes to peel the wetness from her eyes.

"Fucking hell." the nineteen-year-old spat, shaking his head at her.

She warily stepped towards the child, her upper body shaking in the bitter wind and her fear, "What are you doing?"

"This." Phil slammed the shovel into the dirt again, clawing away at the land, "Right here." doubt crawled against him, "His body. Dan's body."

"You can't dig up a grave!"

"It's not a grave! He was killed! He was buried alive in an old well." he hit an old cobbled brick with his shovel.

"And now you're digging it up?" she asked, confusion riding her voice.

"Yes, because how the hell would I have known a body was here unless he's real? What more evidence do you need?" he was crying, streaks of tears dripping down his face, wiped away by the howls of the winter.

"I...I wouldn't...you wouldn't..." Katherine stuttered.

"Exactly." he sighed, pausing for a moment before resuming his digging, "I wouldn't. He's below here, Mum. And then what?" What else can I do to keep us living here?"

"Phil...even if he's real-"

"HE USES ME, MUM!" he admitted, his throat now raw from shouting through the cries of the wind, "HE NEEDS ENERGY, WITHOUT ME HE'LL DISAPPEAR FOREVER!"

"He's already _dead_!" she begged her son.

"Not to me." he sniffled, "He never has been to me. To me, us moving away is as good as you driving a knife through Martyn." he warned, "Don't you bloody dare do it."

Katherine saw Phil with his scragged dyed hair and his ghostly face, his features pulled down with defeat and his eyes red from crying dryness. He looked insane, she thought. No matter how bad he'd become, he'd never looked like this before. She'd never seen her son so desperate, so persistent. For a moment she was jealous of the love he gave the dead boy.

Phil kept digging, nature roaring around them but the soils still turning upwards with his force. He wondered if Dan had lied to him, or if he'd remembered the spot of the well wrong. He'd been digging too far, how long had it been, now? How many feet down did Dan tell him his skeleton lied?

There was a hollow crack, Phil's heart slamming down as he chuckled the shovel above the hole in the ground and brushed away the dirt with his fingertips. He looked up, his mother standing over him with terror in the pupils of her eyes, but he was smiling. She was wrong, now he looked mad. He began to lift the scattered bones before she whimpered, "Stop." she ran her frozen palms over her worn face, "Phil, I believe you. Please, stop."


	32. 三十 - 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓼

Katherine removed her fingertips from her nose and lowered her arms to the shivering boy. She grasped his shoulders, pulling him out of the ditch and holding his quivering form into her chest. Phil cried as he curled into her, his hands grasping at the fabric of her winter coat as for the first time in a decade, she hugged her son. She was finally holding her son.

The nineteen-year-old stared absently at his hands, looking at the fibres of skin that, for the first time, had touched Dan, or at least what was him. For the first time, he felt the shape of his skull; even if it was seven-year-old Daniel, it was him. He took himself back to the minutes before where he was cradling the mass of bone, looking desperately up at his mother with the vibrations of energy shooting between the human boy and the body. How would it be possible to feel energy from something that had been dead for almost a century? The pile of bones weren't even Daniel anymore.

"I'm sorry." Phil whispered, "You were just trying-"

Katherine shook her head, "No, Phil. Two years ago I promised you I'd try to look at things differently. I didn't. I believed you could do better; that he was bad for you. You're not okay, I understand that, but I also know without Dan you'd be so, so much worse."

Phil wept, his mother leading him back inside the house, wrapping him up in a blanket and offering him a mug of hot chocolate. He smiled, but declined the offer, wanting the warm presence of Dan more than anything. He sighed, looking around, "I'm just going to go upstairs and get Dan." he shrugged, "I'll be back down." he found it strange how the spirit didn't follow him into the garden, but he figured that the younger boy didn't want to see his body being dug up from its place of rest.

He opened their bedroom door, smiling into the empty space before him. He hummed, checking the bathroom and then returning to their bedroom window to confirm he didn't leave the spirit outside in the garden. Dan wasn't around.

It didn't take long for Phil to panic, the rush of fear entering his veins as he shot between the rooms, rushing back downstairs and into the living room where he wildly stared at his mum, "I can't find him." he panted, "I don't know...I can't find Dan."

Kath furrowed her eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"He's not here."

"I thought you said he couldn't leave?"

"He can't."

"Then where could he have gone?" his mum asked, walking up to Phil and stroking his back to comfort him.

He shook his head, his black fringe annoyingly falling into his eye, so he brushed it away, tucking it behind his ear and checking every corner of the house once again, calling out his best friend's name.

He ran into the garden, the wind whistling at the collar of his t-shirt once again as he stared into the pit with his boyfriend's bones lying helplessly in the weather. He gulped, pushing some of the soil back into the well with his knuckles to protect it from the outside.

 _"Maybe he went to a neighbour's?"_ he thought to himself, peering over the fences, _"It could have been that he just wanted to get away, so he went there for peace?"_ he smiled to himself, nodding. Of course, that's what it was.

Katherine's gaze fell back to her son crouching in the cold winter morning, so once again she tunnelled her arms over him, wrapping him in her warmth and cradling him back indoors. She whispered, "Have you found him?"

Phil shook his head, "No, no...but he's probably gone to our neighbours' he can do that. He's able to do that." his lip was quivering and his mum saw the lost expression in the ocean of his eyes.

But, she took in a breath and nodded, "Okay. Well, it will be that, then, won't it?" he smiled helplessly, so she led him to the sofa and returned the blanket over his shoulders, "Settle down, Phil, he'll appear soon."

He waited in silence for an hour, the occasional skid of tyres against the road as a car drove past and the metallic ticking of the mantlepiece clock filling the gaps in his breathing. His mum eventually sat at his side, passing him a warm coffee and looking cautiously up at him.

Phil didn't know what to say. His throat felt big and his neck ached, as though his words had been swollen in his mouth.

Katherine sighed, "How about you knock on the neighbours' doors?"

"And ask to rummage around their house? Don't you think they'll think that's weird?"

"Phil," Katherine calmed, "They've seen you with Dan in the garden for years now, I don't think it'll be as odd as you believe it'll be."

"Do they know?"

"They're my friends, Phil. They had questions."

He nodded, shuffling the blanket away and leaving the comfort of his house. But one knock turned into two and soon he was knelt in one of his neighbour's gardens, his palms over his face as he felt like he should scream. He just couldn't work out where he'd have gone.

But then it dawned on him, if he'd checked every spot in the distance Dan could have gone and his best friend didn't appear, that means he wasn't around, "I've killed Dan?" he silently shrieked, his words escaping his lips like knives. His hands fell from his face like bricks and around his gut as his stomach pulled downwards. It was as though someone had pressed their lips to his and sucked the breath from them, leaving him gasping and struggling for air until he caught it in one sudden gasp and wailed into the open surroundings.

After one long cry, he sucked in another breath, the sound of his tears falling diminishing with every sharp intake. He cried until his lungs had nothing else to hurl out and he was left shell-less and broken.

That was until a warm arm fell over his shoulder, Phil's head lifting to the side in hope, but to then see his mother's stressed features look tiredly down at him. He whimpered, "He's gone, Mum. If he's not around here, he's gone."

She lifted him to her side, walking him out of her friend's house and back into their own, her own heart beating against her chest as though she could feel her son's loss. He suddenly wasn't nineteen anymore, he was the poor young child who knew therapy better than he knew his own mother, scared of losing his only friend.

She wondered if they'd have been able to marry. Dan's legally not a citizen anymore, but he wouldn't have to be. If she could have found an officiant who could see Dan, and then get more witnesses who could see the both of them, there would be no reason why it wouldn't be legal. Of course, Daniel couldn't sign his name, but they would have found a way. She just hadn't thought of trying until it was too late.

**

"You should try and get some sleep, Philly." she sighed, the TV, that had been blaring all day, silenced by her thumb on the remote.

He looked to the window, holding the blanket around himself as though it was another layer of skin. Phil shook his head, placing his head against the arm of the chair and wishing no more than for his spirit to be curled in front of him, their energies wrapped against each other. He could never touch Dan, but now he knew what it felt to not have him at all.

He sighed, gripping the waddled fleece and pulling it to his heartbeat, "I'll stay here tonight." he whimpered. Katherine didn't argue, instead she left her son against the sofa, walking up to her husband who was stood in the living room doorway.

She buried her forehead into him whispering, "I've made a huge mistake."

"Dan will come back." Nigel comforted her.

"You don't understand," she dismissed, "I don't think it works like that."


	33. 三十一 - 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴 𝓒𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

It took Phil another week before he returned to his empty bedroom, the laptop laid out on the bed and their covers still left in a mound. The curtains were undrawn as they always were, and the first print of their book sat untouched on their desk, both of their names printed on the front of it, sharing the title with the name of their blog.

He sighed, discarding his blanket on the floor beside the doorway and picking up the cover in his palms, placing himself on the bedsheet mountain and holding it against his crossed legs. It was hardback, this edition, although they planned to print it in both formats. It was twelve-hundred pages of memoirs, experiences, and advice, compiled over a year and a half by the two star-crossed boys.

He opened the first cover, reading the imprinted text, "Dedicated to everyone who's felt misunderstood, but knew they were speaking the truth." and the tears began to form in his eyes again. The only thing that felt lonelier than having a spirit love, is losing them entirely, and being afraid to go on alone.

He hadn't given himself a chance to mourn. He'd pushed every cry down below his feet, grasping onto the belief that maybe the spirit would return. He'd sat curled and hungry on the sofa, food not passing his lips and even the brightest winter sunrise not breaking a smile against his lips. He took one morning to step into the garden, staring at the old, cobbled well until his hands piled the rest of the dirt back onto the disturbed bones. He took every shovel to regret what he'd done, hating himself, wishing he asked Dan if it would have been safe to do.

He took himself back to the last things Dan had uttered to him, _"Don't do that."_ he'd said to him, checking the older boy hadn't hurt his head on the collision with the wall. He stopped shovelling for a moment, taking his fingertips to the sore patch on the back of his skull. He didn't want the pain to fade.

"What now?" he whispered to himself, "What now, Dan?"

And now he was sat with the book on his lap, for the first time in a week facing what would be every day. Nobody else understood. Nobody else tried to.

He let the feeling of isolation sink over him, his body falling against the double bed he'd bought for Dan on his birthday all those years ago. He placed the book where his boyfriend was supposed to lie, tucking it under the duvet with his own body, his fingertips gliding against the glossy plastic.

He imagined Dan standing behind him, laughing, saying, "Cheating on me with a book now, are you?" he should then come around, standing over him with his hand on his shoulder as he bent down to kiss the human boy's head, "Come on, let's do something useful you moping twat." they'd laugh, Phil standing up and shaking his head, asking where he'd been for seven sunsets, and the spirit would have an answer.

But instead he stayed there in the cold, wondering if Dan let off heat that normally kept him warm, or whether or not just his smile alone managed to heat him up.

He considered whether Dan had lost himself between the physical and spiritual plane, if he was actually standing over him with his lips to the older boy's neck, begging the human to be able to see him. Would he be able to find Dan if he became a spirit himself? He knew it was fantasy.

They'd told themselves over the years that everything works out in the end, that it always did and always would do, but the truth is: it never did. Nothing was ever settled, nothing was ever okay. They survived and they loved, but they never had the chance to sit back and breathe. It was as though they were running a race that didn't have a finish and now they'd given up entirely.

After that first week alone, Phil was giving up. He wept until his exhaustion pulled himself into sleep and he dreamt of a day he could have Dan back in their bed. He missed the way his brown eyes shone back the sun and could light a room when they smiled. He missed the way his dimple was carved into his cheek and traced the edges of his smile. He didn't understand why it had to be like this, he didn't think it was fair.

During the next week, there was an afternoon where he was in the house alone, both his parents at work and his body still cocooned in the nest he'd made out of his bed. He sighed, treading down the staircase and to the door, opening it to a nervously shifting old man.

"Phil." the figure kindly greeted, holding out a palm to the sickly looking boy, whose features hung lower than his own and whose shoulders were carrying the weight of the world, "You look awful." he stated honestly.

The black-haired boy looked up, the dye from his hair growing out, with his roots shining at the top. He lopsidedly smiled at the gentlemen, greeting him back, "Hey, Adrian. I feel it." he nodded, "Do you want to come in?"

Adrian followed the young man into the house, noticing the stubble from the sides of his jaw and the bags under his eyes, "What's been going on for you?" he asked him.

Phil understood why the elderly gentlemen would have come round, and the pain in his chest rose once more, "I've just been feeling unwell. I'm getting better." he lied through a smile. Adrian nodded as he kept talking, "How are you?" they sat in the living room, Phil trying his best to keep his composure in front of Dan's younger brother.

"I'm..." Adrian began, his smile fading as he looked out the window, "I'm feeling well, but I've been told I'm ill. I don't quite believe them, yet, but I suppose I have to." he shrugged, "I'm sorry for intruding on you like this-"

"It's fine!" Phil warmly reassured him, genuinely grateful for the company, "I offered you to come round. It must be weird seeing the house all done up different?"

"I don't remember it much." he shrugged honestly, "We moved out when I was still a young boy." he sighed, analysing the walls of the old build, "Can...I ask a favour?"

"Of course." Phil croaked, hearing the words before they were spoken.

"I want to talk to him...if that's possible? If he's still around? I didn't know him. I never got the chance." he was fumbling with his wrinkled hands in his lap, with a sly smile on his lips that was one of a school student when in trouble.

Phil sucked in a breath, the sound of it whistling in his throat, "He's here." he lied through a pitiful smile.

Adrian's lips parted as a light formed in the centres of his eyes and a smile spread across his cheeks, "He is?"

Phil nodded, digging away at himself, "He says it's weird seeing you all grown up."

"Of course." Adrian chuckled, "How old does he look?"

"Nineteen." Phil whispered, seeing the smooth curves of his boyfriend's cheeks, in his memory, and the way his brown hair fell across his forehead.

"I thought so. I had a look at your internet blog. It brought me peace I didn't think I could have. I didn't think I needed..."

"Is there anything you want to ask?" Phil suggested, smiling emptily.

Adrian thought for a moment, "I hadn't thought about this. I received the call from the hospital and I don't know, it just felt right. Would it be strange if I asked how it felt to die?"

Phil shook his head, "It wouldn't be weird. It's natural to fear it." he sighed, "Dan can't remember it. He says he was scared, but not while he was dying or about death, he was scared of your uncle. Dying to him felt like going to a restful sleep, he doesn't remember much else."

Adrian smiled, looking content at the answer, "I'm sorry, Daniel." he began, "I never knew you. I don't even remember you. I don't know what it's felt like being trapped here, as you're unable to move on, but by the sounds of it you've not been doing all that bad. You have this lovely young lad, after all." he chuckled at Phil, before looking back down at the floor between his feet, "But I want to thank you for writing that blog. I feel like I got to know you. I feel like I have a brother again, even if you're now only nineteen."

They fell into a silence, Phil standing up to sit beside Adrian before a warmth settled on him and he looked towards the doorway, "Adrian?" he asked, "Do you know we're releasing a book?"

"Yes." he nodded, "Well done. It should be out in half a year, shouldn't it?"

"Yeah!" Phil confirmed.

"I won't get to read it, but I wish you two the best."

"I have the first print upstairs. Do you want it? You can have the _first_ read." he smiled.

The old man looked touched, tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he nodded. The young boy walked up the stairs, picking the book off of Dan's bedside table and holding the cover in his hands. He sniffled, running his wrists over his eyes, whispering, "Goodbye, Dan." to the silence of the restful room.

He returned to the living room, holding the book out to Adrian, "It's yours." he smiled, "Mint condition."

"Thank you." the man laughed, the joy turning to respect as he repeated, "Thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Keep him safe," Phil winked, chuckling, "I can spare the goodbye."


	34. 三十二 - 𝓞𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓭𝓸𝓼𝓮

"What do you do when you've lost everything? Everything you've ever known, everything you've ever loved, and everything you've ever cared for?" Phil asked his brother, his lips to the edge of a cold hot chocolate.

"I don't know." Martyn sighed honestly, sitting on the opposite sofa, "Phil you're saying things that are worrying me and I'm not sure what to do."

"Neither do I." Phil shrugged. It had been a month. He'd given up on Dan's return and was beginning to wonder how many more mornings he could wake up without his best friend by his side. His brother had come down for Christmas but had decided to stick around, but Phil could care less either way.

"Do I need to tell someone? Do I need to take you somewhere? How much longer can I guarantee you're safe, Phil?" he pushed, but Phil just looked to the side and didn't respond. Martyn sighed, taking a seat next to his brother and pulling his body into a hug, "I'm always here for you, okay? Don't feel alone."

The younger brother coughed up after a while, "Thank you." he whispered.

"You're Phil. My little brother, the one who I'm running a business for and is pretty much damn famous. Take a break from it all, focus on yourself. It won't be easy, I'm not a fucking idiot, but you'll get there."

Phil chuckled, "Thanks again." but his heart was beating in his throat and every joint in his body ached. Last week he went to sleep not wanting to open his eyes again in the morning, wishing the darkness of the night sucked the last of his breaths away and let him rest in peace. But he got up every morning, his consciousness returning as once again he lived a day without Dan. That was his timeline: before his boyfriend disappeared, and after. That's all his days meant anymore. And now he was going to bed, the last few days unsure whether he _would_ be getting up in the morning. It didn't even scare him, or make him cry, it was just a fact: he didn't want to be alive if he was alive without Dan.

"So you're safe, yeah?" Martyn asked, looking at his brother's dull eyes.

He nodded, "Yeah, of course." shrugging, standing up from the sofa, "I'm going to go to bed." he sniffled.

"Phil?" Martyn asked

He hummed in response.

"It's two in the afternoon." he warned.

"I know. Just going up for a nap." he dismissed, walking out of the room.

He sat with his palms on his forehead, his fingernails running over his eyebrows as he listened to the emptiness of the room. It was isolation. It was never having anyone besides Dan, and now having no one. He hung his arms around his body and let his head fall to his boyfriend's pillow. He remembered how Dan liked to curl with his knees to his chest, and Phil would hold himself over him. So he did just that, lifting his knees to his chin and wrapping his fists between each other, wondering if there'd be a day again where waking up was more than a function of his body.

He stood up, tucking the corners of his bedsheets over the mattress and laying out the pillows neatly at the top. He checked that the curtains over the window were open, letting the sunbeam through, before he decided he'd draw them, saying goodbye to the midday sun. He chuckled because only he and Dan would have sentiment over bloody blinds.

He looked around the room, deciding to tuck his desk chair under and neatly arrange the books on top, then ordered his shoes in the corner of his room. It didn't look perfect, but it didn't look horrendous. It would do.

His next decision wasn't sporadic, but neither was it over-thought or overly contemplated. To Phil, it was no more a complicated decision than deciding he was going to get a cup of coffee, but the decision was made and in the moment, he knew there would be no change to it. No intervening parents, or Martyn, or a conveniently timed telephone call. The world was holding its breath as Phil steadily sighed.

Prescribed pills, over-the-counter medicine, whatever tablets he'd managed to gather both purposefully and unknowingly over the years sat in the drawer above his underwear. It was a miscellaneous drawer of goods that never really belonged anywhere else.

He took a handful, not a measured amount, nor one he thought about. The decision wasn't a depressing one, not to him in that moment, it was essential and an act of slow desperation. He unfolded the box, popping one of the tablets out, followed by another, and another, until he was staring at a small gathering in his palm. It still didn't feel real. It shouldn't be this easy. But it was as he pressed his hand to his mouth and swallowed the mass with a gulp of water. He stared at the empty patch of skin responsible for the action, his heart begins to race in his chest as though his body understood what he was doing before his mind had come to terms with it.

He chuckled, popping them into his palm again and letting them tunnel down his throat. He didn't think it would be this easy, he wondered, if he'd known that it was, whether he'd have done it sooner. He wondered if he'd have done it when Dan was still around and he saw the world as a darkening place.

The fourth handful was when it kicked in, his mind started playing back the years of his life that he'd run through. He remembered them, no matter how hard he tried to block them out and he thought about Dan's fragile face as he amazedly stared at the small snail curled in the very spot the medicine sat in now. Phil wept. He wept for the past he was to lose and the future he'd never have, and the present he chose to mindlessly stumble through.

 _"One hell of a life."_ he thought to himself, letting the tears run down his face as his fist emptied once again. He lost track after that, but no matter how much his body shook or how many memories were played back to him he didn't stop until the boxes were depleted. It wasn't a happy moment, no matter how hard he tried to tell himself it was.

At around eight o'clock that night, there was a small tap on Philip's door, before his brother stood lopsidedly in the doorway with a sympathetic smile on his lips, "How are you doing? You didn't come out again."

Phil shrugged, his face against the pillow and his socks curled above the covers, "Could be better." he sighed honestly.

"Do you need me to stay?" Martyn asked, trying to not make a big deal out of it. No matter how worried he was about Phil, he was his older brother and he wouldn't shift the dynamic they'd had all their lives. It would feel unnatural. It would confirm to them both that Phil was truly unwell.

The younger boy shook his head, "I'm alright. Just getting some rest." he lied this time.

"Okay. I'm just across the hall, right?"

"Yeah." Phil nodded, the door closed as he whispered, "Thanks, Martyn."


	35. 三十三 - 𝓗𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼

It's an unusual sensation to wake up once you believed you had died. You first feel your throat, your lips, your tongue as you check it's intact. You shift your arms and then turn your head side to side, before your eyes open and you take in your surroundings.

The floor was damp and the room was dark. He couldn't see two centimetres in front of his face. Maybe the boy had gone blind, but he chuckled realising that was ridiculous. He felt as though he was waking from an unpleasant sleep, his muscles tense and his heart racing in his chest. He wasn't quite sure what room he was in, nor how long he'd been asleep.

He thought back, furrowing his eyebrows to where he'd been before. He knocked on the floor beneath his knuckles, forgetting he couldn't make sounds. He crawled to his feet, standing as he made his way towards the window, watching the street pass by the house, but all he could see were beams of light through the clouded bathroom window.

It was dark, so maybe he'd slept through the day. He wasn't quite sure why he'd disappeared, but last he remembered was Phil storming out of the bathroom and racing down the stairs, shouting out for Katherine. He threw himself against the wall and sat there, letting his eyes close to block out the world around him.

But then he felt faint and the world distorted around him. He remembered now he presumed it was something to do with his form consisting entirely of energy. It felt like Phil had stepped inside him, but instead of the pleasant vibrations he got through his boyfriend, it was as though he was being churned around and warped into a different form.

He shrugged it off, he felt fine now besides from the fizzing in his palms and feet and the race he felt in his heart and throat. He tried to calm himself, reminding his body that nothing was wrong.

He walked away from the window, letting the bathroom door pass behind him as he stepped into his bedroom, Phil's bedside lamp beaming over his figure. Dan smiled at his best friend curled in the centre of the bed with his head on the spirit's pillow.

The spirit sighed, "Sorry." he whispered, "I probably scared you shitless being gone for the day." he rested his hand where he should have felt the strands of his hair. He furrowed his eyebrows, watching the ends of the dyed locks dance with his touch, even though it was mid-winter. Dan did feel odd, though, it was probably him.

The spirit passed out of their bedroom door and wandered down the stairs, hoping to catch a glance of the clock above the mantlepiece in the living room. He was right, it was the early hours of the morning. Must have been gone for at least twelve hours. He walked over to the kitchen, acknowledging the mess that was forming by the sink, but what caught his attention was the calendar that hung over it, small ticks by the end of the date so Katherine could tell what the day was every morning.

Daniel scrunched his nose, staring at the date beneath the picture of the bird, reading it over and over again, "January twenty-fourth." he finally said aloud. It must have been early December last he checked. What was that, a month, maybe more?

The fog over his mind blew away with a sharp gasp, as he violently muttered, "Fuck." he looked around, nobody else in the room as once again he forcefully spat, "Fuck." he jogged up the stairs, barging past the wooden door and standing over Phil again. He didn't normally like to wake the boy, but he felt as though his boyfriend deserved to know he was back, "A whole bloody month." he cursed, sitting besides Phil.

Daniel sighed, "Phil." he loudly spoke, "Phil, I'm so sorry I don't know where I've been..." he wafted his hand through his best friend, whose face being pressed against Dan's pillow instead of his own was once cute, but now rushed panic through the younger boy, "Phil I'm so, so sorry please wake up and let me know you're okay." he was beginning to wonder if disappearing was going to be a regular occurrence or whether or not it was a one-time thing, "Phil!" he snapped.

He groaned, rolling his eyes at the boy and beginning to drain the light in and out of the bulb beside him, hoping the disturbance in light would wake him. He watched Phil's lips move slowly, his hand move towards the direction of Dan. The spirit laughed, "Fucking hell, Phil. You're acting like you're drunk. We've spent nights being up later than three AM, don't pull this one on me." he was laughing but every part of him was telling him to panic.

Daniel hummed, creasing his features as he didn't want to doubt his friend, but part of him wanted to check the bin to make sure he actually _hadn't_ been drinking. He shrugged, Phil wasn't showing any signs of wanting to speak to him any time soon, so what would the harm be? He walked to the far corner, glancing into the bin and instead of sighing a relief at the lack of bottles his tongue swelled in his neck and pounds of weight were swung from his ribs, "Phil..." he quivered, "Phil you fucking idiot." he tore his eyes away from the empty pile of medicine, some of the boxes he hadn't needed to touch for years, yet here they were stocked in the rubbish pile.

He pursed his lips and turned back to his boyfriend, shaking his head as he thrashed his arms through Phil's body repeatedly, hoping to get more than a shift from the boy, "Phil? Tell me I'm exaggerating this." he begged, his voice audibly pained, "Phil, you fucking idiot." he sucked in a breath and shook his head.

The fizzing in his limbs turned to burning as though his entire body was a torch. Phil was shifting slightly, but the more he attempted to move and didn't, the more Dan panicked and the heavier the tears felt against his cheeks, "Phil...Phil..." he repeated, not letting a syllable run dry.

He held his palms against his eyes and felt his eyelashes rub against his skin as he blinked, "Phil." he said for the last time, looking at the door and passing through. He checked Martyn's room first, seeing his boyfriend's older brother curled under the duvet and sleeping restfully, "Martyn!" he screamed, knowing it was helpless. No lights were on so he couldn't attempt to wake him with that. He groaned, passing to Katherine and Nigel's room, seeing them facing opposite on the mattress with every fucking light off.

Dan was still for a moment, his heart pacing faster than his mind as he slowly understood what was going on. He spoke it word by word, trying to get the information through to himself so he could work out what to do, "Phil's overdosed," he began, "He's overdosed and nobody knows but me. And I can't get him help, because I'm a spirit. Phil's dying, and there's absolutely nothing I can do." he warily walked back into the room where his boyfriend stayed icily still above the bedsheet covers. He couldn't even tuck him in. He began to believe he would watch his boyfriend die.


	36. 三十四 - 𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓔𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓰𝔂

It was the disturbance in his energy that woke Dan up from his month-long sleep. He'd been feeding off of Phil's energy for over a decade, and that didn't come without consequences, whether they are good or bad. It could be argued whether or not they had a spiritual connection before they met, but now with their energies basically being the same entity, they were undoubtedly connected.

Phil could move halfway across the world and Dan would slowly fade away over a week or two, and the energy he held in himself would disperse into his surroundings, if Phil wasn't close enough to absorb it again himself. They wouldn't be anywhere near each other, but he would still be able to feel Dan slowly draining away, until he could feel it in himself that he was with them no more.

If Phil had understood this before the night he overdosed, he might have had more faith that his spirit love would return. As he disturbed his boyfriend's resting body, it detached the anchors Daniel had to the physical world, therefore he lost himself between planes. He needed to take time, find his way back, let his energy reconnect to the surface and latch back onto the building that was his home. It could take a week or two, maybe a month, possibly up to half a year. He would have come back and it wouldn't have taken too long.

But, as Phil's body began to give up on him, the energy the two of them shared panicked, pulling Daniel back with his form panicking before he understood what the urgency was. And now he was knelt by his bed with his boyfriend helplessly curled in the bedsheets, breath slowly trickling its way out of his mouth and his eyelids occasionally fluttering.

Dan sucked in air through his own nostrils. He still didn't need to breathe, but his muscles performed the actions automatically as if they hadn't learnt he'd died. Just like his lungs, his eyes still knew how to cry. He wiped his cheek, holding his other palm above Phil's hair, letting his fingers dance over the strands as though he could comfort him this way, "Don't give up, Phil." he whispered, "Someone will come soon."

He wished for PJ to be there as he could run to the human boy, crying into his arms as he screamed for him to get help, but no matter how hard he screamed, Phil's family weren't going to know that their youngest was dying across the corridor.

Dan's body shook, his knees weak beneath his kneel but he refused to take his eyes even centimetres away from Phil's face in fear he'd miss something, whether that was his last breath or a sign of hope. He could barely hold his arms above his shoulders, his hands uncontrollably moving in jittery motions and his chest rolling with each sigh. He couldn't tell if the pain was worsened because he couldn't feel physical pain anymore, or whether or not it just hurt this much, "Come on, Phil," he chuckled, "You've got this." his voice cracked into another sob.

His eyes widened when the sunlight rolled in from the freshly drawn curtains and the sensations in his chest changed. It was as though someone held a heart in front of him, one that wasn't his own, but one that he could feel. It was like they were letting it bleed out, every pump it fought for causing it to disperse its life away as though it counted down to its own death, like the ticking of a clock. He then realised that heart was Phil's and the blood was nothing less than the last of the energy he contained, "Fuck this." he cursed, shaking his head and grasping his free hand to his ribs. The meekness of his voice and the way it was barely audible didn't allow the tones of frustration to pass with the swear. He was so helpless, so pathetic, and what was worse was that he knew it.

He focused on each pulse of fading energy as though it was the last. He waited for changes in the sensation signalling it could be the last beat. He listened to the drum of his own heart as it fell into rhythm with the dying black-haired boy's.

His thoughts went silent for a moment until he wondered if the energy he stored in himself could be passed back to the boy he stole it from. If he could drain a bit with each beat, the life that felt as though it was spilling out could be replaced, creating a cycle of loss and gain, much like a garden water feature. He sucked a breath in, focusing on passing his life away from himself, from every tip of his fingers and skin on his chest. He realised it was working after it began to make him sick.

He gasped, joy riding the sound as he grinned at the sickly feeling. It felt awful, as though he was back in the well eighty years ago and suffocating under the dirt, but he couldn't have been happier. He rested his forehead on the mattress, letting his eyes fall away from Phil's as he worked on a rhythm where he lost his life to his boyfriend; his one and only love, and the only one to ever be.

The sun was long in the sky before he stood on his feet again, carrying his body out into the hall and back down the stairs, pulling his head side to side in hopes that he found someone who could help. Martyn sat at the TV, drumming the remote against his leg as he looked unsatisfied at the show that was on. The spirit glared at the screen, focusing on pulling the electricity from it, watching the screen dim before them both.

Martyn groaned, tossing the remote to the side and looking out into the front garden. If he believed that Dan still walked among them, he might have guessed it was him instantly. But he believed the spirit was well and truly dead, so the option didn't occur.

Dan let out a groan of frustration, falling onto his knees as he cried into the air, his chest rapidly rose and fell as he hyperventilated into silence. After a few moments, Martyn stepped by him, walking into the hallway without a second thought. Dan rose to his feet, following the older brother stuttering, "Check on Phil! Go to Phil's room! He needs you-" and he didn't give up until the door to Martyn's room shut behind him, "There!" Dan screamed as he pointed at his bedroom door, "In there!" his face contorted as he tiresomely wailed again.

The click of the radio in Martyn's room sounded, followed by the out-dated and out-of-season mutters of Christmas songs, "It's bloody late January!" the older Lester boy complained, followed by a mild chuckle. Daniel knelt at his door, listening nonchalantly to the drones of the music, seemingly mocking his distress with the upbeat singing of _Baby It's Cold Outside_.

"It's cold outside." Dan nodded, agreeing with the music, "It's so, so cold outside." he laughed, lifting himself back into his bedroom where Phil laid motionlessly.

He stared at his black-haired boy whose hair was washed from colour and roots were combed through at the top. He sighed, letting himself fall beside his best friend, with his nose in the crook of his neck and their heads both sharing Dan's pillow. His arm cradled the lightly breathing figure as he continued to drain his energy back into him, taking care not to waste it too fast. Nobody came to their bedroom door. It would be a long night.


	37. 三十五 - 𝓕𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭

The spirit chose not to rest that night. He knew it was the morning from the sun peaking in behind the blinds and the sound of Phil's parents stirring. He'd listened to his boyfriend's breathing the entire night, not letting a single sound fall out of distance. He was determined on getting him through, no matter the cost to himself. He had to get him through.

"They're waking up now, Phil," he beamed. He'd been talking to his best friend the whole night, hoping he could latch onto his voice and fight to keep from fading away. He wished the boy could speak back. Dan sat up, his limbs feeling heavy, "They're just brushing their teeth, yeah? How about you use the bathroom after them? You don't look like you've washed for a few days." he teased the dying boy. His grin faded as he looked away from the bedroom door, "I'm proud of you Phil, you know that?" he buried his forehead into him, "If you give up now, let me say I'm not mad at you. I want you here, I want us both here. But, it's been a tough ride for us both. We've done well, huh? I'm proud of you for getting through two nights. But...how about one more? One last one for me, huh?" Dan nodded into Phil's shoulder, "Let's do that."

The nineteen-year-olds laid coldly beside each other, the beats of their hearts and the breath from the lungs in sync. If it wasn't such a depressing moment, the sight would have been beautiful. Their matted sets of hair and their slightly parted lips, the nip of the cold January biting them as they cuddled above the duvet under the dark light of the room.

A knock sounded at their door, Dan's mind convinced he'd misheard it until Katherine stood cautiously in the doorway, her eyes greeted with the peaceful image of her son resting, "Phil?" she sighed, "How about you come downstairs with me? I'll get you some cereal and we'll watch a film."

"He's overdosed." Dan whispered, knowing she wouldn't hear him.

"Phil?" she asked again, approaching him, placing her hand against his arm, "Phil?" she gently shook him, his body falling limply, but his chest still rising and falling, "Phil?!" she began to sound panicked, kneeling over the bed with one hand by his nose and the other shaking him, "NIGEL!" she screamed, her breathing rapidly increasing as Dan saw the panic strike through her eyes, "Phil, Phil...please, can you hear me?"

"What's going on?" Nigel was already at her side, holding her as she wept over Phil.

"I don't...I don't..."

Phil's father didn't move for a second, but then his mobile was in his hands and he was walking out of the door.

"What's going on?" a tired Martyn whispered, concern against every word as he looked at his terrified parents, "What's going on with Phil?" but he didn't need to ask.

Katherine was sobbing over Phil, her hands moving through his hair as Dan looked over them all, his face expressionless but every fibre in his body screaming in pain. He was exhausted.

"Mum, move to the side." Martyn told her, she seemed hesitant but didn't question the confidence in his voice. He wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him to the floor and placing him on his back against the carpet. He leant by his lips, feeling the soft breath of air from his younger brother, "He's alive." he nodded, grabbing a pillow and slipping it under his head carefully, "Mum look around for drug packets." he kept his hand over Phil's mouth and forehead.

"An ambulance is on its way." Nigel sighed, the fear audible in his voice, increased when Katherine held out to him a handful of empty boxes.

"Should I open a window?" Katherine asked.

"No." Martyn shook his head, "He's survived for this long in this temperature, if we change it he could go into shock. I've done this before."

The next twenty minutes were spent in silence, the small family huddled around the dying boy as they held their breaths in fear. They barely cried, tears held back by adrenaline and fear and pages of regret.

The paramedics arrived with a stretcher carrying Phil's body down the stairs, one of them taking the boxes of tablets as they hurried him out the house. Dan followed, standing at the doorway as he watched Katherine step into the back of the ambulance and Martyn and his dad driving in a separate vehicle. The sirens switched on and the vehicles drove away, the last Dan seeing of his boyfriend was with a ventilator tied around his mouth and him strapped to a bed too hard to rest on.

The spirit stood helplessly, watching as they passed the corner. He stood in the cold, the frost not touching him. He was wrong, there was one thing worse than holding Phil by his side as he watched the boy die, and it was watching him be driven off with no one able to explain to him what was going on because nobody believed the spirit was still alive.

***

He stayed there until the sun above him died out and he was left in the darkness, the light pouring in from the living room's bulbs into the patch of grass he stood on. The street seemed eerily quiet, as though it was waiting for Dan's reaction as Martyn's car pulled up on the curve and Phil's older brother stepped out, hugging his arms around his body as he walked jacketless.

"Martyn-" Dan whimpered, following him into the living room until he was sat on the sofa, his head in his palms as the spirit stood behind him.

The spirit sucked in a breath, draining the light slowly out of the bulbs, then bringing them back, and repeating it. Martyn didn't notice it the first time, but after the second set he looked up at the ceiling, watching the bulb's glow. He saw the lamp in the distance flickering at the same pace and pursed his lips, "Dan?" he laughed, shaking his head. He felt ridiculous asking, but he continued, "Right." he nodded, pulling out his laptop, "Flicker once for yes, don't flicker for no. Is this Dan?"

Dan drained the lights once.

Martyn laughed, tears slipping down his cheeks as he still didn't quite believe this, "What the fuck?" he asked. His eyes then lit up, "Fucking hell you flickered the TV last night. I'm a fucking _idiot_."

Dan wanted to reach out to him, telling him that he wasn't and that it wasn't his fault.

Martyn placed his laptop on the coffee table, a chart of Morse code lit up on the screen, "Here." he sighed, "Do it slowly. Practise a dot."

Dan practised flicking the light for a dot.

"A dash?"

He held the light off for longer.

"Great. Say whatever you want."

Dan concentrated on the bulbs, watching the screen of the laptop that occasionally accidentally flickered as well. Martyn scribbled on a piece of paper as the lights changed around him, "Call PJ?" he repeated the words Dan spelt out to him, "Who's..." his eyes lit up, "I'll find Phil's phone."


	38. 三十六 - 𝓖𝓪𝓽𝓮𝔀𝓪𝔂

The brown curly-haired boy had his face pressed into a pillow in an apartment on the outskirts of Manchester. He moved into the city after he graduated to continue his studies, finding interviewing people and gathering information more appealing than the actual science behind the supernatural.

He groaned, his phone chiming on his bedside table as he noticed it wasn't his alarm sound. He picked the device up, sleepily reading the name on the screen. He furrowed his eyebrows, pressing the mobile to his ear, "Phil?" he asked.

"Is this PJ?" Martyn asked, smiling as an anxious Dan stood less than a meter away.

"Uh...yeah? Who's thi-?"

"I'm Martyn, Phil's older brother. He's overdosed and I have Dan here and...and can you get round here?" he begged.

PJ contorted his features, blinking as he turned his light on and threw clothes onto his bed, "Of course. Same address? I'll be over as quickly as possible."

"Yeah, same place." he paused before muttering, "Thank you."

***

He pulled up outside the Lesters' home, the rain violently falling around him as the ice of the air damn near turned it into ice. He shivered, knocking on the door for it to open immediately, Martyn appearing exhausted with Dan barely looking alive behind him.

He noticed how faded the spirit looked, the outlines of his body barely visible and his facial features indefinable, "Oh my God, Dan..." he muttered, "What's going on?" he asked the both of them, letting them lead him into the living room.

"I'll...let Dan speak, I guess." Martyn shrugged, sighing as he slouched into the sofa.

The spirit looked hesitant, but PJ smiled at him as he shuffled forwards beside Martyn, "I wasn't around for a month, but then I was back and I was panicked and then I realised Phil had overdosed and I tried, I _tried_ to tell the others but..."

"Dan." PJ spoke firmly, "You did what you could."

"And...and I tried feeding him my energy so he survived..."

"Fucking hell Dan, that's why you look so shit?"

"Probably..."

Martyn stared widely at PJ, "Why? What's going on?"

"You better thank Phil's boyfriend as he damn saved his life, even if he's killed himself for it."

"Dan?" Martyn whispered, "How? How did he come back?"

"He fed Phil his energy. Dan, why did you come back?"

"I don't know...I just did?" he whispered solemnly, looking down at the patch of carpet between his feet.

Martyn's phone rang in his pocket, so he shoved his hand to grab it, placing it to his ear as breath rippled away from his lips, "Mum?"

Dan sucked in a breath as a cry escaped his lips.

The older brother nodded, "I'm on my way." he hung up, moving the words between his tongue in his mouth before he quietly muttered, "They've got the drugs out of him but they're trying to keep his organs stable and his liver from failing." he shrugged, "PJ?"

"Mm?" the boy replied.

"Can I grab your number so I can keep updating you?"

Liguori hummed, nodding, "Sure...here," he held out his mobile to Martyn, "Are you going to explain what's going on to your parents?"

Martyn shrugged, "I'll see if it's appropriate to bring up."

"Thank you." Dan whispered, his voice barren from upbeat.

"Dan said thanks."

"Dan? Thank you." he addressed the thin air, "I've got to go-"

"Of course." PJ smiled understandably. They stayed silent until the engine of Martyn's car rumbled in the driveway.

The spirit turned to the other boy, his lips trembling as he muttered, "Thank you."

"Don't speak of it." PJ dismissed, standing to sit beside Dan instead. A part of him wanted to offer the spirit his energy, but he knew this wasn't his battle, and was fearful of the life he could lose. The thought dwindled away as though it never occurred, and it was never considered again. Sitting here with the dying boys was the least he could do, and he realised that.

Dan was sitting crossed-legged, chewing on the insides of his cheeks with his eyes drifting into the distance. He thought briefly, "If...a message comes back that Phil's not going to survive...do you think you could get Martyn to..."

PJ nodded, "Of course." he turned to the spirit, "But he'll be alright, okay?" Dan nodded but the older boy wasn't convinced by it, "You saved him, alright?"

"You don't know that."

"I do." PJ hummed, "I'm never wrong about these things."

 _"I hope not."_ Dan thought to himself, twisting his fingers in his lap.

"How's the book going?"

"Finished." Dan smiled weakly, "Not sure when it's publishing though." he sighed, wishing he hadn't missed so long. PJ decided to drop the small talk, the next hour sat in silence with the noise only coming from their minds.

***

PJ's phone rang against his lap, him instantly answering the call, "Martyn-" he greeted hastily.

"PJ," Phil's brother sighed, "He's going to be in overnight, but I think that was pretty obvious. They're keeping an eye on his liver but it doesn't seem to be getting any worse. They've got him on monitors and I'm just taking a breather outside, but Dad and I will be home tonight, Mum's staying with him."

"Okay, but no bad news?"

"No." Martyn confirmed.

Dan looked at PJ with a cloud over his eyes, "I'm going to go upstairs and rest. Uh...feel free to camp on the sofa I guess? It's not really my place to say."

"Thank you. I'll talk to Martyn about it."

"See you." the spirit shrugged, moving away from the waiting room.

"Talk to me about what-?" Dan heard Martyn down the phone before he stepped too far away to hear him.

Daniel curled against his and Phil's bed, noticing the way the corners had been tucked in and the pillows fluffed for the first time ever. The curtains were still drawn shut and it sickened him because they never did that. It wasn't right, and neither was the stacked books on the desk and the tucked-in chair. Everything was too neat. Everything was far too perfect.

 _"What would it have taken for me to be born half a century later?"_ he thought to the darkness around him. The world was silent in response, _"To be able to hug Phil against me? To be able to have it all played out differently?_

_"There was a time I believed in a god. I believed He led our lives and had a plan for each one of us. If there really was a fucking god, why aren't I in heaven? Why was I condemned to suffering? I was seven years old; I didn't do that much wrong. I think I stole a penny-farthing from my father once to buy a sweet from the way home from school. Why should kids have to suffer so the good and the bad can be balanced in the world?_

_"If we really need good to understand the bad...why can't we all live in ignorance? It would be an easier life to live like a lion and only have the means to eat and mate, without consideration for others' emotions by the curse of our own emotions. If a god did exist, too many things just don't make sense._

_"Maybe a god does exist, but He couldn't be the god I was taught about. The all-knowing, all-loving god that we're taught if we don't praise He'll burn us in hell for eternity._

_"I don't fear death. I've already died once and honestly it wasn't that bad. The thought of going into nothingness is inspiring more than anything, if there's not a better word for it. The only thing I despise is existing without Phil. I suppose if I'm unconscious, that wouldn't bother me as such. But at least let me say goodbye._

_"He could be dead now. PJ might be coming up the stairs to knock on the door and tell me my best friend; my fucking soulmate for all I know has died. I'm not sure I'd call it a peaceful death. The only deaths that should be depressingly mourned are the ones where the person took their own life, because how can you celebrate a life that existed if it was a life that was hated and unloved by the very person who lived it? But, any other death should be a happy mourning. The person lived a fulfilled life and what they did should be remembered and praised, instead of people's selfish desires to want them back. Fuck Western ideology._

_"But I'm so God damn helpless. My biggest fear, since Phil began to decline when we were sixteen, was that one day I'd find him strawn out with no ability to help him; no way to save him. I wonder if I always knew it would come true. And now he's in fucking hospital and he's relying on the very parents that got him in there. Pieces of shit._

_"They don't realise what they missed out on. Phil and I: we raised each other. I guess we're falling beside each other, now. How ironic. How fucking ironic."_


	39. 三十七 - 𝓦𝓪𝓴𝓮

A week had passed, with Martyn and his parents going in and out of the house, collecting belongings, sleeping, taking food away, with no more than a few words spoken. PJ went home after the first night, Martyn using Phil's mobile to leave voicemails on for Dan to receive updates, but nothing ever changed. Ten voicemails a day turned to two in less than seven sleeps. They felt as though they were waiting for something that had already happened. A last breath is all it would take, and it would be over.

Dan listened to the whistles of the voicemail, his arms not entirely visible to himself with his outlines of his body shaking in his view. He thought he looked more like a cloud than a person. If Phil gave up now, he'd barely have a week left of conscience. If he wasn't going to give up, the older boy had better return soon, or it would be too late for the spirit.

***

Phil wasn't being admitted to inpatient psychiatric care - he learnt as the doctor sat at his side discussing the consequences. He'd woken up less than twenty minutes ago from his induced coma that was forcing his body to heal. He begged them not to, agreeing on thrice-weekly therapy instead. He could've sworn Dan was by his side during his unconscious hours. It was too real to be false, he hadn't yet begun to dream when his spirit love was whispering in his ear, crying out for him to stay.

"I just want to go home." Phil muttered helplessly to the doctor, who sighed as he nodded, walking away from the curled-up boy.

He didn't get a second to breathe before Katherine was tearfully at his side, her arms around his waist with her face muffled in his gown, "Phil..." she gasped, "I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you woke up I was getting some water...do you want it?" she offered him the plastic cup, but he shook his head.

"Is anyone else here?" Phil quietly muttered.

Katherine smiled meekly, nodding her head, "Martyn's on his way already and your dad was asleep so he's just getting ready and coming in." the sickly-looking patient glanced outside his window, noticing the darkness of the winter sky. His mum's fingers fell in his hair, "You're going to be alright." she comforted him, although he wanted to know if Dan was back before he hummed in agreement.

There was a soft knock on the hospital door before a worn-looking Martyn with dark drags beneath his eyes stood grinning in the doorway, "Phil." he chuckled, his smile fading as he faced their mum.

She seemed to get the hint, surprisingly, looking between the two of them and the unspoken tension that was rising, "I'll go and talk to the doctor." she hummed, letting Phil go as she hurried out of the room.

Martyn was next to have his hands around his brother's back, holding him into him as he playfully spat, "You fucking idiot."

"I'm sorry." Phil chuckled. He hadn't yet decided if he wanted to be laughing.

"Dan's back." Martyn whispered, "I'll explain it all later, but for now just get your head back and get the fuck back home."

"Okay." Phil agreed, a genuine laugh on his lips. His mind then processed what he'd heard and he pulled away from his older brother, every feature in his face widened, "Dan?" he grinned, the drip still slung from his forearm as he held his arms to his stomach.

"Yeah," Martyn nodded, Phil inviting him onto his hospital bed. They sat beside each other, the younger boy shaking with the light reflecting back into his eyes.

Phil hesitated a moment before whispering, "When do you think I can go home?"

"Soon." Martyn suggested, "I'll make sure you get home soon." he thought about PJ's words about the fading spirit and his sickly look, wondering if the voicemails he was leaving on the lines were even being heard anymore. A gasp fell onto his throat, "Phil?"

"Mm?" the younger brother hummed, his head still bright with dreams.

Martyn hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was safe yet to suggest the vanishment of Phil's boyfriend, "Dan's not doing well. I managed to get PJ round-" he decided it was for the best if he told the truth. It felt as though their world was lacking that recently.

"PJ? Why?"

Martyn shrugged, "The lights were weirdly flickering, I got Dan to Morse code a sentence out and he told me to call him. Phil? I know you want me to fill you in, but I think it's better heard from Dan. Honestly, it doesn't make sense to me."

"Okay." Phil agreed, "But what do you mean he's not doing well?"

"PJ said something about him fading away. He looked... concerned..." he admitted.

Phil pursed his lips and stared at the drip tying him down, "Do you think I can discharge myself?"

"If you're supposed to be here, don't. If you seriously want to get home quickly, make sure you do what they say. They'll want to take you as inpatient, otherwise."

Phil groaned, running his palms over his eyebrows, "Can I call him?"

"Sure!" Martyn agreed, passing his younger brother his phone.

***

Dan sucked a breath in as Phil's mobile rang with the name of his brother, the tones ringing out until he was met with the answerphone message. He waited on the bed, his back facing the device on Phil's side-cupboard with the metallic drill surrounding him, almost wishing Martyn would stop calling so that he could live eternally hoping Phil was alive, instead of knowing the truth.

There was a short beep, followed by a soar-sounding throat, "Dan?" Phil's voice echoed down the line. The spirit gasped, turning his body upwards until he was standing with his elbows against the bedside table, his face looming over the device with a Cheshire Cat grin against his cheeks, "I'm okay." Phil began, "I'm so, so sorry. I know that doesn't begin to cover it, but...but..." he trailed off, "I don't know. I'm coming home and I'll be back soon, okay? Martyn said you weren't doing well but just hang in there for a bit longer and I'll be back. I love you."

"I love you, too." the spirit whispered, his fingertips running over the tears that fell down his face. His hands were barely definable, but it couldn't be long. He'd be fine, he believed. The line clicked and they were apart again.

***

The spirit rushed to the doorstep, waiting with his elbows against his knees for the next hour as every car struck excitement through him. He couldn't imagine how Phil felt through the month he thought Dan had died. He wished he could blame it on himself, but it wasn't his fault, even if he tried for it to be.

He recognised Martyn's car as it pulled up onto the curb, his eyes drilling into the passenger window at a very queasy-looking Phil. Dan smiled, standing up as the door opened and his boyfriend, although frail and pale, stood above him, their eyes locking mid-way.

They didn't need to say anything, so they didn't. Dan let his grin speak for him and Phil let the chuckles from his throat do the same.

"Welcome home." Dan whispered, Phil noticing how weak the spirit looked and his faded edges. If he looked closely, he could see the light from the hallway reflect the doorway through his stomach. Phil could see through Dan and it sent shivers against his gut; wondering how long his best friend would have had left.

"You, too." Phil hummed, looking into the house, "Can we go upstairs?" Dan nodded, leading the way back into their bedroom, where for the first time in two months, they could rest beside each other without fear in their veins. As long as they had each other, they'd be alright. That's why they didn't dare to be apart; never again for a single night.


	40. 三十八 - 𝓛𝓪𝓼𝓽 𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓢𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓮

They stared at each other, Dan's head against his pillow on the right of the bed, and Phil's on his. They grinned, but the light in their expressions was held in their eyes as their faces rested mere centimetres away. Phil leant in, their lips brushing, whether or not they could feel the particles they shared. They only thought of how wonderful the other was.

"You look awful." Phil admitted after a while, his fingertips flowing over Dan's cheek.

"So do you." Dan laughed, shaking his head against the cotton bedsheets. He saw Phil's fear, but wanted to convince him they had today without worrying about it. They deserved _one_ day, "We can do anything," Dan whispered, "Anything you want. I want to make up for every second I was gone and I want you to have a memory of me for when I'm gone."

Phil searched Dan's eyes, but only found dilated pupils and wonder, "Why would I need a memory of you? I've had a decade and a lifetime more to come."

Dan sighed, brushing his lips through Phil's and letting their eyelids flutter, "We don't have to worry about that now," he sighed, "Just trust me. Right now, I want to sit with you and let the stars gaze in awe at us. You're wonderful, Phil; we're wonderful, and I want us both to believe that."

"Okay." Phil smiled, having faith in every word that escaped his spirit's lips, "Then I want to go into the garden and lie with you in the cold."

"I'd like that." Dan agreed, sitting up with his eyes set on his boyfriend, "But you have to wear a coat."

The human chuckled, stepping off the bed, leaving Dan with his legs folded under his bottom and his arms sprawled out relaxed at his sides. He picked up his coat from the back of his desk chair and cradled it in his arms, his eyes falling to the perfectly arranged table. He hummed, pulling the chair out slightly and cocking the laptop sideways. Dan noticed it and he was satisfied.

They trod down the stairs to their family, Martyn sitting on the sofa perpendicular to Nigel and Katherine. They silenced themselves when Phil stood in the doorway, with Dan unknowingly hovering by his side, "We're just...going into the garden." Phil smiled, giving the three of them a shrug.

"Are you alright?" Nigel asked his youngest child.

"Yeah." Phil replied truthfully, "Thank you." he wasn't sure what he was thanking, but he needed to say the words. He walked through the kitchen and opened the back door, feeling their eyes fall off his back and returning to their conversation.

"Come, sit." Dan giggled, patting the ground beside him. Phil looked cautiously at the dirt, acknowledging the dug-up ground above the old well. Dan saw his best friend's eyes trail away and towards the ground he assumed caused his vanishment, "It's okay." the spirit comforted, "Sit with me!" his playful tone returned.

Phil looked around at the garden, chuckling as over the years, the sight barely changed. His mother had planted a few new flowers here and there, but apart from that and the decaying wooden bench, it had stayed a constant throughout his life. It was simple, but he thought it was beautiful, knowing he was probably biased.

"Phiiiiillll!" Dan was whining now, falling onto his back and staring up at the night sky alone, "It's not going to bite."

They'd not lied together in the strands of grass for months. The garden had slowly emptied as the two boys grew older, yet their love for the night never changed. Phil wanted to possess the childishness Dan had so easily managed to reabsorb, but it had changed, and there wasn't much he could do about it.

"It doesn't have to be the same." Dan whispered, Phil inching closer along the open space to hear him, "We're not seven anymore, so it's not going to feel like we're seven. But it doesn't have to, because we've grown. If we still felt like we did when we were children then we wouldn't have what we have now. But don't let that stop you from enjoying this, Phil. Lay across the grass with me, let's forget everything else. It's you and me, Phil; boyfriend and boyfriend; best friend and best friend. Let's make the most of it." but the young adult didn't seem to be upset, with his brown eyes staring at the lightless sky.

Phil sighed contently, nodding as he sat beside the spirit, "Dan?" he asked, an idea brewing in his mind.

"Mm?" the spirit chuckled, turning onto his side with his elbow propping his body up.

"If you were a human...do you think you'd want to get married someday?" he felt nervous, as though he should be looking away from the blushing curly-haired boy in front of him, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.

"Of course." Dan responded, sitting upwards and crossing his legs, circling his fingers on the grass' frost, "It would mean you couldn't run away-" he giggled, a loving tint to his smile.

"You idiot." Phil laughed, "I could say the same to you."

"I know." Dan hummed, looking back into Phil's pupils, "Who says we wouldn't be able to fight to get married anyway?"

"Okay, then." Phil nodded, his hands shaking beside him and his heart thumping against his ears, "Daniel Howell, will you marry me?" he thought about kneeling but he didn't think he could stably hold himself up, so instead he sat on one leg, the other just to his side with his arms supporting the weight of his upper body so he could lean towards the other timid boy.

Dan's eyes were wide, but he held a grin from ear to ear. He wanted to speak up, wanted to warn him, but if Phil hadn't made it clear to him that he didn't care how long they had left, then Dan obviously would never understand. But, he did because he felt what it was like to think he'd lost the older boy, and he'd never wish that on him. So, he hesitated, fearful of the harm he could do if he said yes, but was completely aware of the greater collateral damage he'd cause if 'no' slipped through his lips.

And he didn't want to say 'no'.

"Yes." Dan smiled, searching Phil for any signs of it being a joke, "Yeah." he nodded, an amused breath escaping his nostrils.

"Good, because I don't mind if we can never marry, but I'm tired of not being able to call you more than my boyfriend."

"Mm." Dan agreed, still in shock.

The moon watched over the two men as they laid across the white grass in its reflective glow. It was their spotlight, and the stars were their audience as they watched the lovers' lips close the air between themselves, across the Lesters' garden. They were perfect, just as they should have been, and they were beautiful, even with Dan's faded outline and Phil's whitened skin. But tonight wasn't about their limited time, it was about the moments they had left, and this is one of them they'd never forget, even if they had less than a year left.


	41. 三十九 - 𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴

"Do you think it's too late to change the name we're printing on our book?" Dan chuckled, standing over Phil as he wrote an email to the publishers.

"We don't need to!" Phil giggled, shaking his head as he felt his fiancé's presence behind him.

Dan groaned, "I know...but doesn't stop me from whispering 'Daniel Lester' to myself at three in the morning."

"I know, I can hear you," Phil snickered, "But that's not the reason we don't need to."

"No?" the spirit was confused.

"I never put your last name on the cover."

"Oh-" Dan began, but Phil had turned around and was placing his lips where Dan's hovered in surprise.

"So it should be out to the public tomorrow." Phil nodded, pulling away.

"Wait, didn't we ever receive the final review copy?"

"We did." Phil sighed, "I gave it to your brother, he came around when you'd disappeared."

"Oh?" Dan smiled, "How was he?"

"Not well." Phil shook his head, his eyes saying all the needed to for the younger boy to understand. Dan pursed his lips and Phil invited them to both sit on their bed, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, of course. I never knew him, it's just..." he shrugged, twisting the fabric of his t-shirt between his fingers.

"You can still be upset about it." Phil spoke honestly, staring at the ceiling with their backs against the duvet.

They fell into silence with reality bubbling beneath them like a boiling pot. Dan had waited a week since Phil proposed in the garden, and the black-haired boy couldn't help but notice the spirit's ever-fading appearance. He silently agreed to himself that he wasn't going to wait any longer, he had to know what was going on even if he didn't want to hear the truth, "What's going on, Dan?" he began, "I thought you'd slowly come back after I returned, but you're still fading and you haven't told me why."

"I can't-" Dan swallowed, his voice cracking as he spoke.

Phil shut his eyes, not wanting to hear what was going on but knowing he couldn't run from it anymore, "Please," he begged, "just tell me."

The spirit waited in silence for a moment, the only sound around them was the buzzing in their ears as they waited for him to speak up, "When you overdosed I gave you my energy, like I told you."

"Yeah." Phil nodded, knowing Dan had also said this didn't hurt him.

"But I can't get that energy back."

"Why not?"

"Because you've got none."

Phil furrowed his eyebrows and sat upwards, looking over the quivering form, "What do you mean? I'm better now, you can take mine."

"But you're not better," Dan shook his head, "There's nothing left in you, Phil. Well, there's some, but if I take that from you, you'll be gone in a week. You need time; time to rebuild it and grow again. You can't do that if I still suck it away from you."

"Then I don't regrow it!" Phil defensively snapped, throwing his hands into his fringe, "I don't care if I'm weak-"

"I _can't_." Dan stressed, "You're too fragile, Phil. I don't know what it will do to you; to your mind, if I try. I can't watch you deplete again. Please don't make me watch that again..."

"If I..." Phil trailed off, his eyes falling to the open curtains above their bed, watching the clouds on the horizon, "If I didn't overdose...?"

"I don't know." Dan spat, "I don't know if I'd have come back, for one! Would I be able to use your energy now? Yes. Is that what you want to hear? But it's not your fault and it never has been."

"So what now?" the words in Phil's mouth were defeated and joyless, "I watch you fade away? We promised we weren't going to do this."

"Maybe we won't!" Dan smiled, water forming in the corners of his eyes, "I came back after you dug me up, didn't I? I'll just, try to stay around until you get your energy back. I'll be just beyond the physical world, ready to come back when I can."

"Do you think that will work?" Phil asked, "How do you know when to come back? How do you know you won't completely fade away?" the guilt was beginning to crawl against Phil as he wondered where they'd be if he hadn't swallowed the handfuls of medicine. Maybe they'd have until they were forty, married under new laws with shelves of their own books.

Dan let out a sharp breath, his eyes absorbed into Phil's skies, "Look," he whispered, "I can't guarantee this will work, but I'm really sure it will. I need you to trust me, otherwise we'll both end up dead way too soon. You're already doing so, so well, Honey. I'm sure it would only take a couple of months, maybe three at the most. We've got to try, please? I can't lose you-" he broke, his head bowing to Phil as his chest rose and fell.

"Okay-" the older boy rushed, "If you really believe we can do this."

"I do."

"Okay, then I do, too." they let the air between them Phil with the sounds of their hastened breaths, "How would we do it?"

"I'll wait until I fade naturally, but I'll keep taking energy from the lights and fire. You won't be able to see me, but I can stay tethered just enough to remain alive. You won't be able to see or hear me, but I should be able to hear you. So keep talking to me, alright? Know that I'm with you."

"And I'll explain it to my parents and Martyn." Phil pointed out, "They can help me and support me."

"Of course." Dan nodded, "You're so, so amazing and so clever." he reminded his best friend, burying his forehead in Phil's neck, where the black-haired boy would have felt the tingles of his skin if his spirit love wasn't so weak.

"So, how long should we have?"

"I'd be gone in less than a week." Dan admitted, not looking upwards at Phil, scared to see the fear in his eyes, "But I won't let you say goodbye," he pushed, "We're not doing goodbyes because it's not a 'goodbye', it's a 'see you soon'." he was sniffling again with dampness against his cheeks. He wanted to believe it and thought maybe if he could get Phil to, he would too.

"If it's not-?" the spirit heard the pain in his fiancé's voice and the soreness as though he'd been screaming all his life.

"It is." Dan enforced, "But we have a week, okay? I don't want to miss a moment."

"Then we won't." Phil falsely smiled to himself, "I don't think it's an impossible task to keep my eyes glued to you for seven days."

Dan pulled away, his chin pointing upwards to catch the hopeful glisten to Phil's expression. He locked his eyes into him as if to say, _"I don't think so either."_ and they stayed there until the sun set behind the snowy trees.


	42. 四十 - 𝓗𝓮𝔂 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷

"Mum?" Phil asked, knocking on the doorway of the living room as he stood awkwardly against it.

"Hey, Phil." She smiled, "Dan?" Kath questioned.

Phil shook his head, walking into the room as his mother paused the television, turning her full attention to her son, "Can I talk to you?"

"Of course." she agreed, placing the remote to the side, "What is it?"

Phil had waited a couple of days. He wasn't sure why, maybe he was hoping Dan would start to come back and he'd never need to sit beside his mother as he explained to her what was going to happen. But the spirit kept fading, and the reality kept sinking in, "Dan's not been doing well."

"Oh?"

He sighed, crossing his legs. He told her about how the spirit used his energy, how it kept draining him, how Dan needed it to survive and every fine detail there was to what they'd discovered. She knew some of it, but if it wasn't on their blog, it wasn't in her knowledge, and they were yet to share the whole truth. Some things are too hard to face. He took in a breath, looking up at her puzzled expression as she deciphered everything he'd said, "So now he's fading away and I can't do anything about it." Phil whispered, "But, we have a plan. He's going to naturally fade, but keep himself alive as a spirit, using minimal energy he needs. That way, when I've recovered, we can go back to normal."

"But...you'll only have about thirty years to live..." Kath fumbled over.

"I know," Phil nodded, "but thirty years with Dan is better than sixty without."

"And how do you know this plan will work?" she pushed, concern soaked over her eyes.

"I don't," Phil admitted, "but Dan is confident in it, and I trust him enough to believe."

"And I'm not going to lose you like I did?"

" _No_." Phil reassured her, shaking his head with assurance.

"Then...okay..." she shrugged, nodding, rubbing her hands over her face, "Phil?"

"Yeah?" he replied, standing up from the seat.

"Remember to enjoy this week and he might not want you to, but prepare for the worst."

Phil sighed, looking away but with his head bouncing in agreement, "Okay." he smiled, "Thank you."

***

The two nineteen-year-olds stood by their windowsill, staring out into the light bristles of snow falling against the ground in the garden. Phil's arm rested on the bedpost, as though it was wrapped around Dan's back with the younger boy's head nestled into Phil's cheek.

The older boy could see his table lamp shining through his best friend, the light entirely visible through his torso. In fact, the only sign that Dan still remained was the colour pigments of his clothes and skin. His outlines weren't visible and his mass had dispersed, yet Phil still thought he was beautiful.

Phil heard the spirit sniffling beside him, so he turned, asking him, "What's wrong?"

"Just scared." Dan shrugged, his tone perfected to tell Phil he wasn't upset.

"I know. What part?" the human pushed.

"Being alone; leaving you alone."

"We'll be safe." Phil reminded him.

"I know." Dan nodded, turning away from the snowfall. He looked around the bedroom, Phil's eyes following him as he stepped closer towards the centre of the room.

"What is it?" Phil asked again, "What are you hiding?"

Dan shrugged, lifting his arms in the air and giving his best friend a pathetic grin, "Let's do something." he diverted, holding his hand out to Phil as though he could grasp it, "Dance with me."

Phil chuckled, "What?"

"Oh, come on!" he whined, taking his hand away and walking up to Phil, " _Dance_ with me." his eyes grazed over Phil's lips, "Put on some music and let's forget everything else."

"Okay." Phil gave in, shaking his head as he walked over to his CD collection, "What do you want? Some hardcore My Chemical Romance?" he joked, rummaging through the shelf.

"Pretty Odd. Eight." Dan smiled, his fringe over his eyebrow with a crooked smile on his lips. He watched Phil set the disc into the CD player and join him in the middle of the room, their chests slightly too far apart until Dan stepped forwards, holding his head where it should have fallen into the crooks of his collar bone.

The guitar began metallically strumming in the background as Dan hummed the tune against his lips, swaying his upper body calmly to the rhythm. Phil chuckled, shaking his head as the lyrics of the song set in. Dan looked up at him, a hope set in his eyes that he lived off, "I love you." Phil whispered as the chorus vibrated in their ears. Dan stepped back, holding his hand in the air. Phil snickered again asking, "What do you want?" Dan ran his finger in circles, "Oh my God." Phil whispered, giggling as he and Dan mimicked the spirit spinning on his finger.

They weren't dancers and they never would be, but they didn't need to be on the night where they stood in the middle of their bedroom with the light above their heads beaming down on them. At times, Phil could only see a blur of what should have been a perfectly outlined version of his fiancé, but even that seemed beautiful as his colours merged into a wash of light.

Dan pulled his body back to Phil's as the song slowed, his head resting back on the older boy's shoulder as the last notes died away. They were giggling, filled with energy.

Phil stepped to the CD player, clicking for the song above. He let the guitar strum out around the two of them, hugging them closer back to each other as Dan annoyedly whispered, "Northern Downpour?"

"Of course." Phil nodded, grinning as he held his hands where he should have felt Dan's waist, letting them sway in the melody. Before long the spirit was mumbling along to the words, the lightness they held only a minute ago dispersing around them as they settled into heavy, controlled breaths, listening intensely to the song dance around them.

The beat began to slow and the instrumental faded away until Phil unconsciously muttered, " _Hey moon, please forget to fall down. Hey moon, don't you go down..._ " his eyes were shut until he heard Dan take a sharp intake of breath, watching his chest violently suck in as his eyes faintly welled, "Dan..." he gasped.

" _You are at the top of my lungs._ " the spirit continued, " _Drawn to the ones who never yawn..._ " he looked up at Phil whose expression was filled with concern, fully aware of how his eyes were wet with tears, but unsure if Phil could even see it. He lowered himself to the floor, hunched over his stomach as he wheezed in for breath.

"Dan..." Phil repeated, holding his body upwards so the spirit could cradle himself into his love's chest.

"If you wake up tomorrow and I'm not there..."

"I know you'll be watching." Phil nodded, "And I know you'll be back in a few months." Dan titled his lips upwards, their mouths joining in a kiss as they held their frames delicately close to each other. The CD player clicked before the next song on the track began to play and the world continued around them as the boys sat lifelessly still, listening-in to what the music had to say.


	43. 四十一 - 𝓑𝓵𝓾𝓮 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼

Phil rolled onto his side, the sound of the cotton sheets beneath him crinkling slightly as he shuffled his weight around. He remembered the night before and how he held Dan on the floor with the music playing in the background, the soft strums of the guitar dancing them into the night. He didn't think Dan could be any more stunning, but as he picked himself up off the floor and swayed with Phil until the early hours of the morning, the human thought he was endlessly perfect.

He sighed, pursing his lips and running his tongue over them, biting away at the dryness caused by sleep. Then, he lifted his eyelids, scrunching his eyes to focus on Dan.

He blinked, unable to strain his eyes to see the ghost, so he placed his glasses on and turned back around, his heart drumming in his chest as he realised he couldn't see his fiancé anymore, _"It's okay."_ he reminded himself, marking the date in his mind to track the spirit's return, "Dan?" he nervously whispered, "Dan?" he said again, slightly more clear. But he didn't get a response.

He slid himself into pyjama bottoms and stepped out of his room, his legs carrying him down the stairs to his parents bundled on the sofa, "He's gone." he quietly announced, walking to sit beside his mother, "I woke up and I can't see him."

"Hey..." Katherine comforted, lifting an arm over him and holding him into her body, "You've got this, okay? The next few months will fly by." her son nodded, training his attention to the show that was on the TV. He was trying to fill a gap of time he otherwise didn't know how to fill.

"Hey?" Martyn spoke, chucking a coat towards Phil, "Let's go sit out the front."

"Why?" the younger boy asked, burying himself into the sofa. Martyn shrugged, ushering him again. Phil groaned, "Fine", standing up from the couch and placing his arms through the jacket, following his older brother out of the front door.

They sat on the concrete slab, slightly far apart in distance, but close enough to not be sitting on the mud outlining the path, "So...he's gone?" Martyn asked. Phil nodded, looking outwards at the gentle snow falling off of the trees' branches, "But...not gone, gone?" he questioned.

Phil shook his head, "He'll be back in a few months. Think of it like energy conservation mode. He just needs me to recover before he can take my energy again." he explained with a shrug of his shoulder.

They sat beside each other in silence for a few moments until Martyn furrowed his eyebrows, turning his face towards the other Lester boy, "Phil?"

"Mm?" he hummed.

"How come if energy replaces itself after a certain amount of time...you'd live less than me if Dan kept taking yours?"

Phil laughed out a nervous breath, "What do you mean?"

"I mean...surely your 'core' energy can't replace itself? If it could, then wouldn't it keep doing that as you got older, meaning there'd be constantly enough to share? I thought the whole point of you deciding to be with Dan or not was about how you had to share the same amount of energy between yourselves-"

"Oh my God..." Phil swallowed, his arms shaking beside him.

"I might be wrong?" Martyn suggested, sensing the panic his younger brother began to harvest. He watched Phil as his thoughts spiralled, the younger boy pulling in more fear and doubt by the second. He shuffled closer to Phil, "Do you think he's lied to you?" he asked.

"He wouldn't have...oh God..." he began to feel nauseous as his veins vibrated through his body.

"Phil?" Katherine asked, the front door had opened without the two of them noticing. She sounded confused, pointing behind herself. Phil stood up, grateful for the distraction, no matter what it was, as he followed his mum through the hallway and to the kitchen. She stood at the window, the sound of the front door closing in the distance as she furrowed her eyes into the garden.

Phil stared at her, waiting for her to speak up. She pointed, "Is it just me...or do you see that figure?"

Phil laughed, shaking his head. He firstly knew Dan wouldn't be back so quickly if their plan had worked, and secondly, he knew that if he had actually...well, died, he wouldn't be back at all. Maybe it was just another spirit and he was destined to be followed by them, or maybe it was a ghost of Dan; the universe remembering a time where the spirit got to dance as a human in the snow.

"It's a young boy." she ushered, opening the back door.

Phil looked out, his eyes instantly falling to a brightly dressed, small figure, whose stomach was set into the fluffy white ground and fingers were pointing to the floor. He stepped forwards, his feet walking ahead of him as he spoke to his mum, "Dan...that's Dan as a child." he stated, although barely believing himself.

He couldn't decipher between a spirit and a ghost. He wrote in his spirit guide the difference: how a ghost is basically a hologram of the past, unable to interact with the present day and exists to repeat a moment at random times; a spirit...was his Dan. Despite this knowledge, he'd never seen a ghost in person. This could have well and truly been that, so he shouted after the small-framed boy, "Dan?!" his words sounded more unsure than he'd have liked.

The spirit faced him, a wide smile against his face as hopped onto his feet and ran towards the nineteen-year-old, "Phil!" the seven-year-old beamed. His mind was now full of questions about how his mum could have seen the boy, but in this moment his focus was on the grinning child whose arms were wrapped around his waist, "I've found some snail shells, look!" Phil followed the child, kneeling in the snow with his coat over his shoulders.

He saw the snail shells and the patterns that wrapped around them, spiralling the musky colours into the centre. Young Dan's eyes stayed on the remains of the creature, but Phil's focus fell to him, "Dan...can you tell me how you're here?" he reverted back to how he'd speak to a child, unsure how much of his Daniel was left.

"Well," the boy began, "have you ever heard about how a patient, an old person, has a day where they feel energetic again before death? They start planning their future and what they can do and what they need to do when they get home. Their families think that they're well again, but...well, they die the next day. Doctors don't know how to explain it. It's like their bodies are giving them a chance to say a proper goodbye to their loved ones."

Phil shook his head, "Did you lie to me?" he accused, "Did you actually believe your plan would work?"

"I don't like to tell lies." young Dan admitted, wrapping his fists around his body and puffing out his cheeks. Phil couldn't help but remember the moments he'd shared with this boy when he was the same age. A part of him was tempted to run around with him, building snowmen on his behalf and watching the clouds go by in the sky. But the spirit would have been like this for a reason, and he didn't know how long he had.

"So...this is my chance to say goodbye?" Phil asked.

"I don't know." Daniel admitted, "I didn't really think this far."

"Why didn't you tell me in the first place?" Phil snapped, his heart twisting as the child's face contorted sadly, "I'm sorry-"

"I didn't _want_ to say goodbye." the spirit admitted, "I knew this would destroy you, so maybe it would hurt less if you thought we still had a chance."

"What happened to our plan? How we'd go down together if we were going at all?"

"We made that plan when we thought we had thirty years. I didn't want this to be your fault."

"But it was, wasn't it? Because I bloody well tried to kill myself." Phil was twisting himself, cursing his decisions.

"You know I can come back?" Dan's voice had changed and it held the childish naïvety a boy who looked his age should hold.

"What do you mean?" Phil was exhausted, running his palm over his eyes as he tried to soothe his mind.

"I'd forgotten as I got older. I don't know how I knew. But, I'm little again, so I remember!"

"What do you remember, Dan?"

"I can be big Dan again, if you want me to be. I'd like to be big Dan..."

"How?" Phil begged, feeling small in comparison to the dead child.

"Bury me. I'm in there-" he pointed at the upturned soil where the snow hadn't set properly against, "Bury me properly. I never got a proper one."

"How do you know that will work...how do you know that?"

"Some things don't need explanations, Phil. But...you need to trust me on this one. I know I don't deserve that. Big Dan won't want to be back because he knows you'll make us two die together. But, I think it's what you want, and I want what you want. And...I want flowers, lots of flowers. I like light blue flowers, and dark blue flowers, and sky blue flowers...maybe some yellow flowers. Make it pretty!" he beamed, falling onto his back and staring at the sun.

"I'll make it pretty." Phil nodded, "I'll make it so pretty you come back as big Dan just to see the flowers. I've not given up for twelve years, I'm not giving up now."


	44. 四十二 - 𝓕𝓾𝓷𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵

"Martyn?" Phil asked, standing outside of his brother's bedroom.

"Yeah?" he replied through the closed door.

"Are you wearing all black?" Phil nervously questioned, watching the door slide open with Martyn standing in his graduation suit.

"Why?" Martyn calmly asked, "Do you want me to get changed-"

"No!" Phil rushed, "It's just...I'm not sure what to wear to my already-dead-fiancés funeral." he admitted, standing in tuxedo trousers and his pyjama top.

"Wear what's comfortable for you. He said he wants it to be beautiful, make sure you're the prettiest thing in the room." Martyn chuckled, giving his younger brother a playful wink, but Phil stood there, running his palm over his arm and looking way off into the distance. Martyn sighed, "Look, just wear your suit. Mum and I have sorted out the flowers. It's just us four and the person who's allowed for it all, but he's friends with Dad. There's nothing to worry about-"

"What if it doesn't work?" Phil mumbled, "And he doesn't come back, or he's stuck young forever?"

"He told you to trust him." Martyn pointed out, "So trust him."

***

Phil stepped out of the car in his black suit, tie-less, but with a spider lilly placed above his pocket, _"Dan wanted a proper burial, so he's going to get the best one I can give him."_ he thought to himself, rearranging his fringe over his eye.

Katherine came up behind him, placing her palm against his shoulder and walking them along. Nigel stepped to Phil's other side, leaning into him to talk, "David says the bones weren't damaged when he took them out," he watched Phil's face to make sure he was okay to continue, but his son seemed relaxed by the words, "They've been arranged into a wicker basket, you can see them before they're buried, if you want?" he offered, watching Phil smile sadly as he nodded. Nigel walked ahead, greeting the man standing by the grave.

Phil thought it was ironic: both he and Dan hated the Western ideology of funerals. They shouldn't be sad, they should be commemorative and thankful for one's life. But this was different. He wasn't even sure if he could call it a funeral.

You could tell the ceremony was arranged by someone who cared a lot for the deceased person: there were flowers delicately pinned to the gravestone, freshly carved out of a small, heavy piece of stone. A baby tree was placed behind it, its fresh branches with leaf buds poking out of the wrap; Phil knew he'd made the right decision on a natural burial. It wouldn't work as well as it would've if Dan's body was still new, but it was just another thing that wasn't normal; another thing they didn't conform to.

The wicker basket was already in the grave, each strand of it delicately handmade to make sure each bit was perfect. Then there were the flower bunches at the foot of the gravestone and candles scattered away from it. He heard Dan warning him, _"Stay away from those, you'll end up burning yourself or something."_ and he chuckled at the thought.

"Are you okay?" Martyn asked.

"Can people stop asking me that?" Phil whispered, hanging his head between his shoulders as he stood just out of eye-line from the slice in the grass. He took a breath, "Sorry, I didn't mean that..."

"You did, and that's okay. Take your time." Martyn watched him as he stepped forwards, his eyes falling on the perfectly arranged bones in the casket. He watched as a peaceful grin set upon his younger brother's face as if it was telling him, _"Everything's okay."_

David stayed quiet until they were all gathered over the century-old remains, calmly uttering, "Would anyone like to say anything before we close the casket?"

Phil looked up at the moon. It was early evening, so it shouldn't have yet been in the sky, but there it was happily watching over the incomplete family. He looked away and towards David, shaking his head, "No...no, this isn't supposed to be a funeral. It's different: it's not a goodbye."

"No problem," David nodded, letting the casket in the grave close. He picked up the shovel, looking at the four of them.

"Can I?" Phil asked, looking around to everyone.

"Of course." Katherine smiled, stepping out of her son's way.

"Here." David passed him the tool, watching over him as the soil landed over the basket.

Phil shovelled in the dirt, partially rushed by the hope that Dan would be greeting him at their doorstep, but slowed by the feeling that he should take his time and maybe he should actually have been saying goodbye.

The last of the dirt was cleared and the youngest Lester child knelt beside his fiancé's grave, placing his spider lily on the freshly turned soil, "See you later." he whispered, "Don't you fucking leave." he smiled, standing up and walking away to catch up with his family.

***

Daniel wasn't sat by the doorstep, nor was he placed in the garden above the patch of dirt he used to lay in. So Phil sighed, fumbling with a tea light he'd kept from the burial as he trod up the stairs to his bedroom. Martyn watched his younger brother cower away, but he left him in peace, knowing he needed this alone.

"Phil?!" he called out, however. Phil turned around, looking at Martyn staring concernedly, "I'm down here if you need me." Phil nodded, continuing his journey away.

Phil's hand fell on the door handle, his face pressed downwards as he entered the darkened room, the space empty of light until the tea light he held spat out a flame. He gasped, looking upwards to see Dan leaning against their windowsill with a scowl against his face.

"Dan..." he grinned, wary of his fiancé's fierce expression. He placed the candle on his dresser, walking towards the sharply outlined spirit, wondering if his hand would still fall through if he placed it on his chest.

Dan looked away, biting his lips between his teeth as he shook his head, "Why?" he asked.

"What the fuck?" Phil exacerbated, "Why...why what? Why did I bring you back? Why did I listen to your child version of yourself? What do you want to hear Dan? Do you want me to sit here and convince you that you wouldn't have done the same thing?"

"Phil?" Dan wept, "If you bring me back every bloody time then we'll only be alive for a few months-"

"Then so be it!" Phil cried, "What would you have done, Dan? Tell me, did you lie to me? Was your whole plan fraudulent and a scapegoat to not have to say goodbye?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Then what was it?" Phil whispered, hurt by the burn in his heart telling him he wasn't wrong.

"Of course I didn't want to say goodbye, but Phil, this wasn't the original plan. You let me take your energy when we thought we had forty years, not less than six bloody months. This? You can get through this. But if I told you this is what I was going to do then you'd never have bloody let me do it-"

"Then why did you try?" Phil stepped forwards, his arms flailing beside his body as he stood less than a meter from Dan, the candle burning behind them.

"Because I can't be responsible for this. I can't watch us...watch _you_ die knowing I was bloody well causing it." Dan admitted, "Fine! I'm selfish, is that what you want to hear? This whole scheme was set off of me being too fucking terrified to see the world lose you."

Phil couldn't find words to say, so instead he placed his lips against Dan's, wishing he could taste them but his body was on fire knowing that they were there. Their faces scrunched as they both held back tears, refusing to let their desperation and hurt show.

"So, what is it?" Phil finally sighed, keeping their faces pressed near to each other, "I let you die for a third time over the next week, knowing I'm actually losing you this time and learning to deal with never knowing you again...or going down together? Is that really our only two options?"

"I don't know..." Dan whimpered.

"Of course you bloody do you can feel what energy I have left in me. Stop being so afraid to-"

"Yes." Dan admitted, "That's what we have." he ran his heated hands over his face, blocking out the world around him, "So I won't lie this time, okay? I won't try and hide the truth. I have a week left and I'll let us say goodbye."

"Dan, stop covering your face." Phil demanded, so the spirit dropped his fists hesitantly, "You really think I'm letting you do that? I don't want to live a life without you. A life without you isn't a real life, it's just surviving. I want to live, Dan, even if that's only for three more months. I love you, I've loved every moment of my last thirteen years alive with you. I can't just forget that. Not after everything. Let us do this, please."

"You seriously mean that?" Dan whispered.

"Haven't you learnt anything this entire time?"

"I don't know..." Dan was losing himself, unable to catch the thoughts that were rushing by.

"I do, Dan. For once, I do. We're doing this together if we've got to do it at all."


	45. 四十三 - 𝓣𝓲𝓮𝓭 𝓔𝓷𝓭𝓼

It's not an everyday task to stand in the doorway of your living room, stepping forwards with your hands between your thighs as you dance your thumbs together, approaching your family and telling them you're leaving to die with your fiancé. But that's what Phil was doing two weeks after Dan's burial. He wanted to leave it as long as possible, but with his birthday approaching, he didn't want any talk of a future he wouldn't be able to have.

"Guys?" Phil began, taking a seat on the sofa away from them all.

"Phil?" Katherine asked, able to read from her son that something was absolutely, truly wrong.

He'd rehearsed these words thousands of times in his head, but as he sat here ready to say them something just didn't feel right about them, so the words he planned fell away and he took the explanation as it came, "I've not told you the whole truth. Dan's back, but he's back as he was before, taking my energy and taking energy that I don't have much left of." he saw his family's confused expressions, believing he was doing a poor job of telling them he was choosing to die, "I'm dying." he spat out, "Because I don't want to live without Dan and that's just what I'll have to do if I don't do...this." he shrugged.

He couldn't plan beyond this. He wasn't sure if his parents would cry, or shout, or try and persuade him to take any other options.

"We're not going to stop you." Katherine admitted, looking down at her lap. She didn't want to lose Phil and watch him slowly diminish into nothing but a lifeless body, because no mother wants that for her son. But she saw the expression in his eyes and she knew that if she tried to stop him she'd be wasting the precious time they had left, so she stayed quiet, sucked it in, and let the truth settle against her.

She and Nigel couldn't cry of sadness. They'd spent their fair number of nights huddled into each other, weeping over their youngest son and the life he couldn't have, but the one they wanted him to. They'd yelled until their throats were sore and cried until their eyes nearly bled. They'd had the conversations on whether or not they should leave for their separate ways, and they've had their days where they didn't care what happened in the world as long as they were by the other's side. Philip Lester was an impossible child and they almost believed he was a curse. If it wasn't for his charm and his loving nature, they'd have believed he was sent from hell. But that was just it, it was his undespisable nature that made everything so much harder because maybe in another universe he'd have been the perfect son. But, in this life, he'd dragged them through his life with ropes on their ankles and they'd never admit it to themselves, let alone to others, but watching him go in peace would be like closing the last cover of a peaceful book. In their hearts they knew this was okay, maybe a part of them even wanted it, and that's why they truly didn't stop him.

Instead, they looked up at the tearful boy, smiling at him with their hearts ringing in their chests. The three of them stood up, holding each other in a bundle until Phil pulled away, glancing into space to protect himself from the pain.

"Phil." Martyn spoke, not quite sure how he was going to react, "Let's go for a walk."

"You can't persuade me out of this." Phil whispered as they grabbed their coats from the hallway, then stepping out into the cold, open air.

"I'm not going to try to." Martyn admitted, pacing his stride as they walked to the park.

"Then, why..."

"Can't I just talk to you?" Martyn sighed, "Is it so wrong for me to want to sit down with my little brother knowing no one else is around?" Phil felt defensive of Dan, knowing he was the victim of this statement, and Martyn knew that, "I'm sorry." he sighed.

Phil sat on a park bench, leaning back into it and staring into the distance, "Don't be." he calmly told him, "It's not every day you're told by your brother he's dying, I guess."

"That's just it." Martyn admitted, "And it's this guilt that I think I could be doing something and knowing that there is another option you're just not taking it..." he sighed, rolling over and burying his face in his fists.

"There's not another option, and there's nothing you can do-"

"I know." Martyn nodded, shuffling towards his brother and wrapping an arm over his shoulders, "I'm sorry...for anything and everything. It shouldn't take you to be fucking dying for someone to sit down with you and admit where they've gone wrong, but here we are. I'm sorry for never speaking up. I'm sorry that I ran away whenever things got difficult. I'm still bloody sorry for telling you to not fall in love with Dan, but part of me thinks I should've said it twice." they both chuckled, "Look, there's so many things that I wish I could go back as a 'if I'd have known' situation. Your fucking overdose, for one.

"I've known you for twenty years, and now I've got to say goodbye because the world was too cruel to give you another story. And I know...I _know_ you don't believe in the Western mourning, and if I could sit here without a bucket load of regrets then I would celebrate your life for what it's been, but if I'm honest, it feels like this is losing a battle. Anticlimactic, really. Been with you the whole way and now this is the end...and what was it all for?"

"If you need some divine reason for why my life happened, why Dan's around; some greater scheme of the universe. Then, just think, I've pathed an easier road for people who can see spirits in the future. I might be the first to fall in love with one, but I won't be the last."

"I won't let the world forget your name, Phil. People say you die twice: once when your heart stops beating, and another when your name's spoken for the last time. No one will ever stop saying your name. Your life has been too great for that. You might just see it as a website and a book, but the rest of the world doesn't." Martyn smiled at his younger brother, his arm still over his shoulder as their breaths were released as hot clouds into the cold air around them, "That's just another reason for why you're perfect, isn't it? You don't see how bloody amazing you are. But you are Phil, both you and Dan are. That was written in the stars."


	46. 四十四 - 𝓣𝔀𝓸-𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓲𝓷𝓮

Daniel Howell was the spirit, but Philip Lester looked about as ghostly as his fiancé did. They were twenty-years-old in two-thousand-and-nine, and they'd been together for the last thirteen.

For the first time since young Phil saw the boy in his garden, they had nothing to say. They were sat above their bed covers, with their backs against the headboard as they looked at the tea-light candle on Phil's dresser. They hadn't lit it since the day Dan came back, but tonight felt like the perfect night to let the flame burn.

"Thirteen years, huh?" Dan chuckled, turning to face his best friend.

"Don't do this..." Phil chuckled, shaking his head.

"Do what?" Dan pried, shuffling closer.

"You know..." Phil shrugged, "say goodbye."

"You know what would be ironic?" Dan asked.

"What?" Phil replied.

"If you now came back as a spirit."

"Oh God, don't..." Phil rolled his eyes, feeling the spirit's head brush against his shoulder. They weren't sure if it was because they neared the summer solstice, or if it was because Phil was edging away from reality, "I think we've had enough turns for ten lifetimes." Phil admitted.

"Well, it's been eighty years for me. That's at least two short ones."

"Or four if I'm living them." the dark humour settled on them both. They stayed wide-eyed, shaking their heads in shock.

Phil had tried not to do his 'lasts', but he ate breakfast this morning knowing he'd put down a spoon for the last time. He'd closed his laptop knowing the stickers on the back of it would form dust. He'd pegged back the curtains last night knowing he'd want them open when the two boys faded away, and he'd be too weak, come the morning, to open them if they'd closed. He'd woken up with Dan by his side as the sun rose, knowing he'd never feel that again.

"Do you want your family in here?" Dan asked, resting his head against the pillow and staring up at the ceiling. His fingers danced with Phil's over his boyfriend's stomach, the two of them now lying side-by-side.

"You are my family." Phil admitted, blinking slowly in an attempt to hide the water in his eyes. He wanted this moment to be happy; why couldn't he be happy?

"I know." Dan sighed warmly, "But so are your brother and your parents."

"They're yours, too." the black-haired boy pointed out.

The spirit chuckled, "Thank you."

They waited a moment before Phil whispered, "Would it be okay if they were?"

"Of course." Dan nodded, burying his head in the older boy's neck.

Phil swallowed the burn in his throat as he picked up his phone from the bedside table, messaging his brother: _"Come up in about an hour."_ he then looked at the device and held the power button down.

"Are you turning it off?" Dan asked.

Phil stopped, "Should I not?" he liked the idea of his best friend having a plan.

The brown-haired boy shook his head, a grin set against his face as he hummed, "Take a photo of us."

Phil didn't argue, turning the device's screen away from their faces and hoping his finger hit the right button. Dan stayed nestled in his boyfriend's shoulder, and Phil closed his eyes, breathing above the spirit's head. He held the device behind the boy he had cradled into his body, opening his camera roll for the last time and setting his eyes against the shot.

"We're both in it." Phil admitted, making out the outline of them both, although Dan's much less than the human's. He thought it was the best photo he'd ever taken.

The device was turned off and coldly placed against the bedside table. Dan didn't want to see it, and he couldn't say why. He'd not seen himself for almost a century, maybe he believed he was still a child somewhere in himself, playing in the grass outside without the pains of being aware.

They stayed there together, Phil drifting in and out of consciousness with Dan barely in the same plane as him, "We're not okay." Phil whispered closely. Saying the words seemed to have lifted weights off of their shoulders. It was like they'd spent years building up walls to tell themselves that they were alright, but they weren't. They could see that now.

"Phil?" Katherine whispered at his side, her hand in his hair, "Phil, Sweety?" she repeated.

"Mm?" he hummed, not rolling away from Dan's side. Phil heard Martyn sniffle.

"Was...just checking you're still with us." her voice was swept away as she spoke, becoming barely audible by the end.

"Phil?" Dan whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I love you." he giggled.

"I love you, too." Phil chuckled back.

"Are you happy?" Dan breathed.

"Of course I'm happy. I've had the best thirteen years of my life."

Nigel looked towards Katherine who was holding her palm over her nose, only hearing the words Phil spoke, whilst looking away from her youngest son. Nobody said this would be easy.

"Your family isn't happy." Dan pointed out.

"I know, but they don't know just how perfect it's been." Phil admitted, "Everyone should get a chance to have a life as perfect as mine." his voice was tired, but every particle in his body vibrated.

"Phil, is it okay if Mum and Dad go?" Martyn asked for them. Phil was thankful he didn't have the energy to turn around and see them.

He nodded, whispering, "It's okay to go."

There was silence for a moment before Kath whispered, "For you, too."

The two boys weren't sure whether Martyn had stayed in the room with them until about ten minutes had passed and Phil's older brother sat up from the desk chair, "I'll leave you two in peace. But, Phil?"

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Can I take your laptop?" Martyn asked.

Phil waited before he replied, "Sure." laughing at the request.

"What's the login for your blog? I don't want it to die away."

"Password is..." he chuckled into Dan's curled hair, "Dan Lester. One word, all lowercase."

"You're an idiot." Dan whispered.

"I know."

"Thank you, Phil." Martyn mumbled respectfully.

"Keep it going for us."

"Your names will never die." his older brother promised, "I'm not sure quite what to say before I go." he admitted.

"Just...promise you'll be happy looking back, okay?"

"I promise, Phil. I promise."

The door shut behind Martyn and the two lovers were left in their bed, entangled as much as possible a human and spirit can be.

Phil opened his eyes, seeing the hazel of Dan's stare back at him, the same hopeful glimmer in them that they had since the first day they met. The human could see how much time he had left because the last colours of his fiancé were fading, and his guess was that they'd go at the same time. They shared the same energy, after all.

"Thank you, Dan." Phil placed his fingertips against his spirit's cheek, his skin settling against his face. He could have sworn the ache in his chest was formed from a missed count in his heartbeat.

"You're touching me." Dan stated, his lips slightly agape. Phil pushed his entire palm against his love's cheek, their grins spreading across their faces.

"I'm touching you." Phil repeated, moving his hand to Dan's waist and their foreheads together. Their hearts beat in rhythm and their breaths fell onto each other's faces, tingling the ends of their noses.

The spirit moved his fingertips into Phil's hair, always wanting to know what the strands of black felt like. The space between their faces was closed as their hands drew their bodies together, and their lips moved perfectly in sync.

The final trickles of sunlight danced behind the distant trees of the horizon as the grins of the two boys framed the beauty of the scene. The stars watched over them and the moon gave them their spotlight. For the next five minutes, they caught up on the pressure they'd always craved, but as their lips remained entangled and their eyes serenely closed, the last lights of them faded away.

Dan Howell was Phil's spirit love, and that was the last time they slept.


	47. 𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮

_Hello you wonderful humans, I hope you liked the story._

_I won't say much about it because some things I believe best when they're left at peace, but I will say I highly enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much, so thank you for going on this journey with me._

_If you want to keep up-to-date on what I'm doing, follow me on here and I post when there are big things in the works. I know I've got many ideas right now, so I hope that when we get there, I'll see you in the next one._

_Goodbye, for now._

_This story was originally posted on Wattpad._


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